Both Messed Up
by PineappleApproves
Summary: (Sequel to The Ghosts of Our Pasts) "Gotham is broken." A message relayed from an unknown entity outside of the city results in the gathering of its remaining criminals under a being called the Overseer. Meanwhile, Jason's demons make it harder and harder for him to feel anything for his childhood love until death, with its wide, red grin, returns to toy with him again. [On Hiatus]
1. Chapter 1 - Everything's Okay

_**Author's Note: Okay! Here we are! A sequel! I've often wondered what the new, Batman-less Gotham is like. Especially with vigilantes who KILL people! (Yes, I know that in the true ending of B:AK, there is some sort of 'nightmare Batman,' but I honestly have no idea what that is so I'm not really going to go into that in this story... UNLESS enough people tell me they want me to include it)**_

 _ **Another reason I'm starting this up is that I'm absolutely FLATTERED by all the attention that the first story received, even after it was finished. It is currently my highest-viewed story. Seriously, you guys rock.**_

 _ **As I just mentioned and as the description says, this is a sequel to my other story The Ghosts of Our Pasts. If you haven't read it, please do before continuing. Otherwise you're going to go through this story like, "... Who dis? ... Who dat? When did what happen?" And nobody likes being clueless.**_

 _ **Rated T for violence and sexual language. There is no written-out explicitly sexual or gore-y content. I don't do that.**_

 ** _Like always, enjoy the story. Feel free to review or PM me feedback._**

* * *

He was back. Lying on the ground. His legs were gone. They hadn't been cut off or removed; they were just gone. All he could do was drag himself along the floor with his arms, trying desperately to get away from what he knew was coming.

There was nothing but darkness around him. He could barely see his hands as they clawed at the ground. His breathing was sporadic. With every pull, he let out croaky, terrified grunts. Every fiber in his being burned with pain, but he ignored it all. He had to move faster. He had to get away this time. Otherwise it'd come back. It'd get him.

And then, there it was. He heard it. That awful, bone-chilling laugh. It started as a deep, guttural chuckle, and bursted into a booming, gleeful cackle. It was getting louder and louder.

He couldn't help it. He had to look. And just like every time, what he saw filled him with absolute dread. It was coming for him. The soft orange glow from the branding iron moved towards him. The tip was shaped in a 'J,' curved towards the right. It was just enough to illuminate that red, stretched grin next to it. And that was all he could see as he struggled along the floor.

But no matter how frantically he dragged himself, it kept coming closer and closer and closer and closer. It was going to get him this time, every time. The laughter grew louder in his ears until he felt it ringing in his head. Some invisible force suddenly pulled him over onto his back. He saw the grin and the hot light hovering over him. The laughter seemed to come from everywhere in the darkness.

It was like this every time. When the light came flying down towards his face, he couldn't take it anymore. His scream ripped through the darkness.

 _"Noooooo!"_

* * *

Cold. He felt cold the moment he woke up. There was a small pain in his chest as his heart raced, like it was trying to break through his ribcage.

The laughing darkness was gone. The orange light and the red grin were gone. He wasn't pinned on the floor; he was lying on his side in the bed. He saw the dim slices of moonlight coming through the blinds, the corner of the pillow, and the wrinkled sheets that fell over the edge of the bed.

Closing his eyes, Jason let out a slow exhale through his nose. He reached up and touched his shoulder. His skin felt cold. The covers were gone. Jason rolled onto his back and sat up. He looked over to the other side of the bed. There they were, the sheets. They were rolled up tightly like a new carpet around the figure at that end. Dark gold hair sprouted from the end of the sheet and draped all over the other pillow.

Not again.

Jason considered reaching over and pulling some of the sheets back, but he knew it would be no use. When the blanket thief strikes, she doesn't relent. Those sheets were wrapped tighter than a cast.

He felt beads of sweat glide down his temple. His heart was still beating fast. A little bit of fear still lingered in his mind. He thought about waking her up so he wouldn't feel so alone, but decided against it. He shouldn't need to bother her just because of a stupid nightmare.

Jason got out of bed, careful not to shake the mattress too much. He stepped out of the bedroom, silently shutting the door behind him, and walked into the kitchen. He reached for the light switch and flicked it up. The kitchen lights remained dark. Just for good measure, he flipped the light switch a few more times before giving up.

Not again.

He let out an exasperated groan. The fucking electricity was out again. No doubt something was busted in the fuse box downstairs. And because management for this complex was so considerate, it'd probably take them only a few goddamned days to repair it.

Whatever. He didn't need the lights. He walked over to the kitchen sink and picked up the empty glass that sat next to it. Holding the glass under the tap, he watched the water slosh against the interior of the cup before slowly filling up. He waited until about a quarter of the glass was filled. Then he threw his head back and downed it all in one go.

Jason let out a little huff of air as he slammed the glass back down on the counter. It clinked rather loudly, but remained in one piece. He turned the tap back on and stooped over the sink. His hands cupped the water, and then threw it onto his face. When he did so, he felt his fingertips scrape against it. That scar. It was the harsh reminder that the orange light and red grin had once been more than just a recurring nightmare. He reached for the stream again and splashed on more water.

He shut the tap off and leaned down, resting his arms against the edges of the sink. He breathed quietly through his mouth as he watched drops of water fall from his nose and lips and hit the bottom of the sink. After a few seconds he scraped his face with a hand and headed back to the bedroom.

As he opened the door, he saw the figure in bed sit up. Jocelyn pulled a hand out of her cocoon and brushed a lock of hair out from the corner of her mouth. "Jason, you're up?" she mumbled groggily. He didn't respond as he closed the door behind him and headed for his side of the bed. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he replied curtly.

"Do you want to talk?"

"No."

"Oh, okay." Jocelyn wrestled the covers off of her body and pulled half of it over to Jason's side. He lowered himself onto the bed and lied back down.

"Good night, babe," he heard her say as he pulled the covers over himself. He looked over at her. She was lying on her side, her back towards him. Once again, he began to feel alone. Even though the nightmare had rustled him, he didn't want to bring it up. It'd just make him feel weak. He couldn't let something like that bother him. It had already been years.

But at least Jocelyn understood. She never pried or insisted he talk. And right now, everything was normal between them. It wasn't always like that. Since they had found each other again in Gotham and gotten back together, these past two years had been a bit rocky. But that should have been a given. A lot of things had happened to them while they had been together and apart. Bad things.

Tonight, things were okay. He heard it in her voice just then; she still loved him. And tonight, he could clearly remember why he loved her.

Jason moved over until he was pressed against her back. He wrapped his arms around her. The girl was a million degrees. So then why did she always need all of the covers? Well, he was cold anyway. And he loved the way her hair felt pressed against his lips, and the feeling of her arms, even that basic, skin-colored, prosthetic one Lucius made for her, as she arranged them over his. The nightmare seemed redundant now. The fear was wiped away. Tonight, everything was okay.

"Good night, Jo."

* * *

He didn't remember hearing the door open, but that must've been what woke him up. Jason lifted his head as Jocelyn walked in, the morning's paper in her hand. The room was brighter now that rays of sunlight replaced the slices of moonlight.

"I have to say, this place is absolutely golden," Jocelyn said as she walked over to the window and opened the blinds. Jason squinted his eyes as the harsh light pierced the room. "Electricity's down for the third time in a row this month, but hey!" She held up the paper and dangled it. "At least we have complimentary newspaper delivery."

Jason let out a grunt in response and rested his head back. "Oh look," he heard Jocelyn say. He opened his eyes and watched her flip the newspaper around so he could see the front. "We made the front page again."

He couldn't quite make out the headlines despite its bold and glaring font. He could hardly recognize the picture through his blurry vision either. It was an image of a red blob and a silver blob. Jason assumed it was a picture of Red Hood and the Specter. He let out another grunt and pressed his face against the pillow.

"Looks like they did a bit of coverage about that scuffle a few days ago," Jocelyn continued. There was a rustling as she flipped through the newspaper. "Says here ' _Another one of Gotham's crime bosses in GCPD's morgue instead of a holding cell.'_ It goes on a few more sentences about ethics… that part's shorter this time… Hmm. And then the rest of the article goes on to theorize whom Red Hood and Specter might be. Secret identities, lifestyles, hobbies… yadda, yadda… Continued on page 14." More rustling. "Oh my god, this article is long." There was a stretch of silence. "And then they spend another half a page wondering about if the two of them are dating and about their sex lives. The Gotham Gazette's really turning into a tabloid, isn't it? This article's less about news and more about 'if they _are_ bonking on the regular, who's on top more?'"

"I say it's about 50-50," Jason mumbled into the pillow. He felt Jocelyn smack him with the crinkly paper.

"Shut up!" The newspaper slap was followed by a series of shakes. "Come on, Jason, get out of bed!" He didn't move. "Maybe I should give an anonymous tip to the journalists. Tell them the Red Hood has the sleeping schedule of a lazy housecat."

"Fine. I'll tell them the Specter steals all the blankets every night and becomes a ravenous black hole around yogurt." All of a sudden, he felt the air being forced out of his lungs as a heavy weight dropped on top of him.

"What did you call me?" Jocelyn hissed in his ear as she lay on top of him. "A _ravenous black hole?_ And I don't steal them _every_ night!"

"Ack!" Jason grunted as he struggled to get out from under her. "And blankets aren't the only thing!" he cried defiantly. "You better not shower with the Specter! Sounds like a good time, but she hogs all of the fucking hot water! Get off me, girl!"

" _Excuse me?_ I'm not going anywhere because you said that!" Jocelyn shouted back. "Well I'm telling them that maybe the Red Hood _could_ have all the hot water he wanted if maybe he didn't jump into the shower _uninvited!_ "

"Everyone knows the Specter secretly likes it," Jason retaliated. He tried to sit up, but Jocelyn shifted her weight from his gut to his chest and pinned him down. "And they also know how she takes an eternity doing God-knows-what in the shower!"

"I'll let them know the Red Hood is a little bitch who gets pinned down by his own girlfriend! Seriously, Jason, are you playing or something? I'm not that heavy!"

Oh jeez. Without warning, Jason found himself confronted by one of the taboo female topics. He was treading on thin ice, especially if he didn't want to end up with a lonely evening. "Didn't they teach you in health class or something that muscle mass is super dense? Plus, I just woke up!"

"I didn't go to school, remember?" Jocelyn reminded him. "Everything I learned was taught to me by an AI and computers."

"Oh right. I can see the headlines now—BREAKING NEWS: SPECTER IS THE MODERN DAY TARZAN."

"Oh, okay, Mr. Perfect. What about you, then? _Red Hood makes his poor, one-armed girlfriend do all the errands because he's too paranoid about his face_." No sooner had the words left her mouth, a look of regret instantly crossed her face. It was too late. Jason felt all cheeriness, all good emotions, die in a flash. Jocelyn put a hand on his cheek. "I didn't mean—." He pushed her off onto the bed and sat up, turning his back to her.

"Oh god, I'm sorry, Jason. Please—."

"You're right. It's time to get up," he interrupted before standing up and walking out of the room.

* * *

 _ **Addendum: There was a line. It was crossed. But at least he's up now. :D**_

 _ **Yogurt (or yoghurt) is gud, man.**_

 ** _Cover picture will be up... uh... at some point._**

 ** _Also, to get hyped for this story, I played Arkham Knight again. Yup, still hate the Batmobile. And Man-Bat scared the living shit out of me... again._**


	2. Chapter 2 - Explosions

Just like it had every single night in Gotham, it was raining. No wonder the news kept talking about droughts in California and Texas. This one little city was stealing all of the nation's rain.

The Specter raised her eyes from the empty streets below to the starless sky. The raindrops seemed to fall towards her, but never hit her helmet. The visor of her helmet was coated with a thin electrical field that immediately dissolved and pushed away small debris that got too close. It took her a couple of months to develop it. She no longer had the lair to construct it. And there was no Verlix to help either.

"Hey." His voice caught her attention. She looked at him. "The weapons deal is happening on the ground," the Red Hood continued. "Unless you're looking for flying gangsters?"

"'Weapons deal' is putting it lightly," the Specter replied. They were talking about truckloads of explosives. No doubt someone in Gotham was planning to blow up a building or two.

"A lot of the thugs here are from Black Mask's lot," Red Hood said, scanning the area. "That's the annoying thing about these guys; you can't clear them out no matter how hard you try. If you destroy the nest, the rest just scatter like roaches and swarm back in a different place under a new boss."

"And we all know Gotham has no shortage of new criminals," the Specter mumbled. After the death of the Batman, the city experienced a huge influx of bad people wanting to take advantage of the seemingly defenseless city. "So what are we waiting for?"

"It's still too early," Red Hood determined. "The trucks aren't here yet. Besides, we don't know which building the deal's taking place in. With all these gunners crawling around, we can't take too many chances." The area they were watching over contained a number of small- and medium-sized warehouses. They had obviously been damaged from two years ago and abandoned. A lot of them were missing chunks of their roofs and walls.

So apparently it was time to play the waiting game. The Specter watched a couple gunmen pass each other below, feeling something nagging at her. Finally, she decided to voice her anxiety. "Jason, about this morning…" she began uneasily. "I know you don't like anyone mentioning… It just sort of slipped out. I'm rea—."

"It's fine," Red Hood said bluntly. "There's nothing to talk about."

His face was hidden behind that red mask. Hers was covered, too. It was times like these when their conversations seemed so distant, like they were on opposite sides of a phone call. The Specter looked away. This overall feeling of discomfort was too familiar. And just when she thought things were looking up between them.

"Listen, Jo, I'm serious. Forget about it." She felt him put a hand on her back. "It's not worth getting upset over. Let's just get this done and go home." In a sly voice, he added, "Then we can see about making up."

The Specter laughed. "Don't let the journalists catch you saying that," she warned. "Their heads will explode." She spotted movement coming towards their direction. "Heads up. Trucks inbound." There were two of them. As they watched, each truck diverged onto separate paths and went to different warehouses.

"Looks like they're trying to take precautions, throw off anyone trying to track them," Red Hood noted.

"How about we split? One each," the Specter proposed.

Red Hood glanced back at her and eyed her robotic arm. "You got the right arm on this time?"

"That was _one_ time!"

"Relax, I'm only messing with you. All right, I'll take the left truck out. You take right. Here." He handed her a small explosive and a detonation trigger. "Plant this on the truck and meet me back here. Then, we'll watch the fireworks together."

"Got it." The Specter pocketed the items. "Weapons free, right?"

"Why not? No one's gonna miss them."

They parted. The Specter jumped down from the edge of the building and headed towards her warehouse. As she approached the nearest gunmen, she cloaked. Instead of engaging, she let them pass. It was better to attract as little attention as possible. But she needed to take out the ones nearest the truck. They'd notice the planted explosive.

The Specter looked around, trying to determine which path she could take. Then, at the last second, she noticed the patrolling gunman walking straight towards her. She managed to phase just in time so that he passed right through. That was too close. Then, when he passed, she dropped the phase. She could maintain the cloak as long as she wanted, but phasing had its limits and needed recharging.

When she had determined her route, the Specter crept through the maze of walls and rubble towards the truck. She made as little noise as possible. As she came upon the truck, she noticed that there were guards posted around it. Two stood near the back of the truck, and one was at the front. That one was going first.

It was easy to approach him while she was cloaked. She walked around to his back. Quickly, she wrapped her robotic arm around his face and pressed her hand over his mouth, stifling his startled cries. Before he could struggle and make too much noise, she pressed a fist against his back. A blade shot out from her gauntlet and into his back. When he was still, she gently lowered the body onto the ground. Then, the Specter made her way around the truck to the other two. They were standing side-by-side. Taking them down without causing too much alarm was going to be tricky.

"What's this all for?" one of the guards asked. "I hear it's a bunch of bombs."

"These are top-of-the-line," the other guard replied. "This stuff'll tear off a vault door at the Bank of Gotham no problem. Penguin got them from an outside seller. He's probably going to charge crazy high prices for anyone who wants them for their next heist."

"Greedy guy," the first guard remarked. "But at least he knows how to make money."

"That's right. And when he earns, we earn."

While they were talking, neither of them had any idea of the cloaked figure standing in front of them. They didn't know what took hold of their heads and rammed them together. And just like that, they were out.

The Specter stepped over their bodies and took the small explosive from her belt. Before she latched it onto the truck, she paused. Top-of-the-line, they said? Wouldn't hurt to have a looksee first.

She phased into the truck. When she was inside, she dropped her cloak. The tiny blue lights from her helmet barely lit up the dark cargo. The Specter touched the side of her helmet and turned on a headlamp.

There were numerous metal crates inside. She walked up to the nearest one and knocked on it. Something about it sounded off. She crouched down and, with her robotic arm, flicked on a narrow laser. With it, she cut through the crate's locks and shoved it open. It was empty. She opened another one. It was also empty.

"Jason," she said into her comms link. "This truck's a decoy. There's nothing in it. How's it on your end?" She was met with the sound of a yell, then a few gunshots. There was a thud of a punch, followed by a sickening crack. Something heavy dropped onto the ground.

"Oh, it's fine. Just doing some clean up," Red Hood replied.

"Lay low. I'm headed your way." The Specter phased out of the truck. To avoid alerting anyone else, she dragged all of the bodies underneath the truck. Then she headed for the other warehouse.

On the way, it was pretty evident that Red Hood's presence had become known. Every gunman she passed seemed on edge. One, upon hearing her footsteps, jumped and whirled around frantically, calling out, "Who's there?" But by that time, she was long gone.

She slowed as she got closer to the warehouse. Everything seemed quiet. The Red Hood was nowhere to be seen.

"Who's it this time? That Red Robin kid?" she heard a thug ask nearby.

"No way, man. That guy back there had a hole in his forehead. Nah, it's the Red Hood."

" _Red Hood?_ Fuck! Where's he at now?"

"Don't know. He just disappeared a while ago. Bet he got scared off. I always knew he was nothing but a pussy. Guy just comes outta nowhere after Batman and thinks he's so tough. Even got the papers talking about him."

"If the Red Hood's here, I hope he brought that ghost bitch with him. You see how that suit shows off her tight ass? Oh _man_ , if we ever got our hands on that bitch, the things I'd do to _her_."

Listening to his words, the Specter felt utterly disgusted. Where were those two pigs? She followed the direction she heard their voices coming from and rounded the corner of the warehouse. In the moment she saw them, a gunshot blared out. One of the thugs dropped.

The remaining thug stumbled over himself and tried to run. A figure dropped from out of nowhere to block his path. The Red Hood ripped the gun from the thug's hands and threw it aside. He took his own handgun and pistol-whipped the thug in the head. Before the thug could fall over, Red Hood grabbed the collar of his jacket and slammed him against the warehouse wall.

"You'd do what, huh?" he roared. "What were you planning to do, you sack of shit?" The man weakly raised his hands. Red Hood struck him with the butt of the handgun again.

The Specter dropped her cloak and hurried over. "That's enough! Stop!"

"Oh, that's enough all right," Red Hood growled. Still gripping the thug's jacket, Red Hood turned and threw him down onto the ground. Then he raised his gun and put a bullet through the man's head.

"Jason, what the hell has gotten into you?" the Specter demanded angrily.

"Me? Did you hear what this jackass said?" Red Hood countered.

"I did, but I wasn't about to bash his skull in over it! Why do you have to go berserk every time this happens? They're just talking, Jason! You don't need to kill them because of it!"

"Are you saying you don't _mind_ what he said? Oh, so you like it or something?"

"I didn't say that! But it's not like I can stop them from saying those things! And what about last week, huh?"

" _Last week?_ What about last week?"

"When we ran into Catwoman on that gallery rooftop, you idiot!" the Specter snapped. "You remember what she said to you? And when I started getting bothered, like I _should have_ been, you told me I was overreacting!"

"You were! Selina talks like that to every guy she meets! She was like that all the time with Batman."

 _"Did you just call her by her name?"_

"Because that IS her name!"

She felt like she wanted to rip everything around her apart, starting with this piece of trash right in front of her. Then she heard a voice call out.

"I see them! They're over here!"

The Specter turned her head just in time to see a gunman raising his weapon. Out of instinct, she phased. Bullet holes punctured the wall behind her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Red Hood duck out of the line of fire. He jerked and let out a cry. There was a red line on his arm where the bullet had grazed him. Without hesitating, the Specter raised her robotic arm. A small barrel rose out from the limb. She unphased and discharged a bullet. The gunman collapsed. But more were on the way.

"Let's go," she said. "Did you plant the explosive?"

"Yeah," Red Hood said, holding his arm. "We'll bail and I'll hit the trigger." He shot out a line and zipped up. The Specter cloaked and raced away. She ran straight for the building they had started out on. He was already there when she arrived.

There was an earth-shattering explosion. The Specter looked back and saw a brilliant ball of fire erupt from the warehouse they had just been at. Then, it fizzled down into a tower of flames. After watching the crackling fire for a moment, she turned back towards him.

"How's your arm?"

"You don't need to worry about it."

"Oh sure!" the Specter suddenly snapped, feeling all of her previous rage come flooding back. "Shut me out like always! Don't worry about this! Don't talk about that! It's none of your business!"

"Will you quit your nagging?" Red Hood shouted back. "This is why! You're always trying to shove yourself into every single little one of my problems! Stop coddling me!"

"Coddle?" As far as she recalled, she had always been very mindful of Jason's boundaries. What was this moron babbling about? "Fine! You know what? You can dress your own damn wound!"

"Fine!" Red Hood turned and stormed away.

"Where are you going?" the Specter demanded. No answer. "Go ahead! Bleed out for all I care!"

"Fuck you."

He disappeared off into the night. The Specter looked towards the burning warehouse. There were sirens wailing in the distance. Finally, she turned and headed back to the apartment alone.

* * *

 _ **Addendum: Oh god, there's too much drama! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES.**_

 _ **On behalf of Texas, I would like to say: yes, please give us some rain. Please.**_

 _ **Also, Red Robin is what Tim Drake eventually becomes in the comics, so I'm assuming it's the same in the Arkham-verse. (Yummmm)**_


	3. Chapter 3 - Never Moving Again

It had been a few hours since she returned home, and still no sign of him. With a heavy sigh, Jocelyn got out of bed. Trying to sleep was a losing battle. The anxiety inside of her kept rattling its cage. At this point, her anger had mellowed out into sorrow. As much as she wanted to deny it, the warning signs were clearly there. It seemed now they were at each other's throats more often than not.

Jocelyn walked over to the window. She pulled up the blinds, and then undid the window latches. As she opened the window, she saw that the warehouse fire had been subdued into a pillar of smoke. She leaned on the windowsill and watched the dark, cloudy trail rise up through the rain. No doubt the local news would be all over the warehouses tomorrow. They'd find out in a flash that the two of them were behind it; they always did. She could practically imagine the cheesy one-liners they'd fling out: _"The Specter and Red Hood… is there anything that pair can't do?"_

"How about get along?" Jocelyn mumbled sadly. She quieted down when she heard chatter flow through the air. It was the neighboring unit, a couple in their late 30's. They seemed to always be complaining… loudly. Anytime the bedroom window was open, they could clearly be heard ranting about their latest favorite topic. Usually, it was about Jocelyn and Jason. Tonight it was the sirens.

"Every night, I tell you! Don't they realize that people _sleep_ at this time?"

"And they're so loud! Why can't they tone down those damn things? If there's an emergency, no need to wake up the rest of us that aren't involved!"

'How about the policemen and firefighters that have to actually work to save lives every night?' Jocelyn wondered angrily. She pushed off from the sill and shut the window. Calming down enough to sleep was her main objective, and those dumbasses next door weren't exactly helping.

The front door of the apartment opened and slammed shut. Jocelyn looked over her shoulder, feeling a hurricane of negative emotions flare up. So much for calming down. From outside the bedroom, there was a mix of noises: scuffling footsteps, ruffling clothes, opening and shutting doors. Finally, the bedroom door opened. Jocelyn quickly turned back to the window as he entered.

Jason didn't say a word to her. She heard the mattress creak as he lay down. So they were doing this cold shoulder thing again. Who knows how many times this had happened? If these walls could talk… She found herself so unsettled that it was hard to breathe. There was no way she could stay in the same room as him. Giving him a concealed, sideways glance, she left the room and walked into the kitchen. The first aid kit was still where she had left it out on the table. Untouched. But from what she saw, Jason's arm was already bandaged. Maybe _Selina_ dressed it for him. Jocelyn grabbed the first aid kit and headed back to the den to put it back.

The 'den' was actually the second bedroom, which had been converted into a small monitoring and communications room. There were a couple of computers, several monitors, and several other machines the Specter used to build upgrades. Naturally, the place paled in comparison to Verlix's lair. But it was all she had.

Jocelyn crossed the room and opened the closet. She put the first aid kit on the shelf above the Specter's suit. The Red Hood's outfit had been thrown haphazardly onto another shelf. Jocelyn pushed the red helmet aside and took the clothes out. She folded them before tucking them back onto the shelf and resting the helmet on top. Then she shut the closet door and collapsed onto the chair. For a while, she just stared at her blurry reflection in the black monitor. It was times like this when she wished she still had him to talk to, even if he was nothing but artificial intelligence. At least he'd listen and _care_. And then he'd reassure her, or give her advice based on his endless knowledge.

What would Verlix say now if he saw the life she was living? _Jocelyn, the relationship is dead. At this point, it's purely physical. There is no real emotion, and there is no saving it. You should get rid of that trashy prince charming while you still have the chance. The fairytale is over._ And he'd be right. 'Once upon a time' started when they had met as teenagers. During those days, the world was theirs and they felt invincible. That was their 'happily ever after,' but she never realized it until now. She was living in the part where the pages ended, the bitter aftermath that no one really mentioned because no one liked it.

Jocelyn blinked heavily as she tried to fight back against the burning in her eyes. With a huff, she put her arms on the tabletop and rested her head on them. Would Verlix really tell her that? On the other hand, he had given his 'life' to save Jason. Maybe the AI would have warmed up enough to take his side. _Jocelyn, try to understand where Mr. Todd is coming from. Remember when those cruel men took you? Remember what they did to your arm? That was only one day, and I was there to save you. He was locked away and tortured for nearly a year. No one was there to save him. No one was there to nurse him back to health. A part of him, that rowdy teenage boy, is dead and gone forever. You have all that is left of him. Whether you choose to still love what's left is up to you._

That rowdy teenage boy. Jocelyn's eyes drifted close as she pictured his spunky grin and those bright eyes underneath that little black mask. There was no 'J' on his face as he ruffled his messy hair. He was holding a small metal disk in his hand, waving it arrogantly in front of him. "You want it back? Meet me behind the billboard…"

The last thing she remembered before falling asleep was the sound of his carefree laughter.

* * *

The table was too high for her, so she drew on the ground instead. She was lying on her stomach, her feet crossed at the ankles and swinging. The yellow crayon was missing from her set, but that was okay. She just needed the brown one right now.

The android was standing a few feet away, busy at the large supercomputer. The lair's florescent lights reflected dimly off of the android's dark brown plating.

When she finished her drawing, the little girl popped up to her feet. She scurried over to the android, holding the paper out. "Look, Verlix!" Jocelyn squealed, raising her arms so he'd be able to see. "Look what I made!"

The android turned away from the computer. There was a soft whirring sound as he bent down to examine the drawing. "Ah," the robot remarked after a few seconds. "Is this a scale drawing of my protoform?"

"No!" the little girl said. "It's a picture of you! See?" She peeked out from behind the paper and pointed at the drawing's arm. "Here's that little purple flower I put on your arm. See?"

"I see." Verlix glanced down at the doodle on his arm, and then back at the drawing. "I do believe the proportions are a little off. The flower in the image should be reduced in size by about 22 percent."

"Oh," Jocelyn said quietly. "… Is it bad?"

"Of course not," Verlix assured quickly. "It would not be reasonable to fault you for such a miniscule error." He gently took the drawing from Jocelyn and held it up to his robotic eyes. "I quite like this image. Do you know why?"

"Why?"

"Because you created it. You have chosen myself as the subject matter to immortalize. I am flattered." There was a _click_ as Verlix's eyes "blinked" quickly. "There. I have saved it." He lowered the picture and offered it back to Jocelyn. "Now the image is both on this sheet of paper, and in here." He pointed at his head.

Jocelyn pressed the drawing against her chest. "In your brain?" she said.

"Yes. But my brain is made of metal, wires, and electricity. Your brain is made of…?"

The little girl's face scrunched as she tried to come up with the answer. "N… Neeew… Nrrrr…" she began.

"Neurons," Verlix finished.

"Neurons."

"That's very good. Now it is time for our next lesson. Are you ready, Jocelyn?"

"Yes!" Jocelyn hurried over to the table to put away her drawing. As she reached up to set it on the tabletop, she asked, "What are we learning about today?"

"Today our lesson will be on—." The android's voice stopped abruptly. Jocelyn looked back at him. Something was wrong with Verlix. He had stopped moving, his body stuck rigidly in its last posture. His eyes were no longer alight.

"Verlix?" The little girl went up to him and pulled at his hand. He did not move. "Verlix, are you there?" He didn't say anything. Somehow, she knew he was gone. She hugged him around the waist and began to cry. "Wake up, Verlix! Don't leave me! I don't want to be alone! Please don't leave me all alone!"

There was an incessant beeping noise in the background. It was coming from the supercomputer. Jocelyn glanced around the motionless android, recognizing the beeping as the sound of an incoming call. She broke away from Verlix and raced over to the computer. Maybe whoever was calling could help them!

She pressed a button. Then another. Then another. She pressed all of them. The beeping continued. The little girl began to panic. "Please help me!" she pleaded to the noise. "I'm scared! Verlix, help me! I'm so scared!" Little specks began to drift through the air. Jocelyn smelled sawdust. There was a loud whining sound above her. She looked up and saw it descending down on her. Spinning, it's jagged edges blurred into a perfect circle. Jocelyn tried to scream, but she found her voice gone. Her body was locked into place. The only thing she could do was watch the spinning saw blade drop closer and closer until finally—.

* * *

When her eyes snapped open, the beeping was still there. Everything else was gone. The sawdust, the spinning blade… Verlix.

Jocelyn slowly lifted her head, pain shooting through her aching neck. The beeping was coming from the computer in front of her. Someone was calling.

As Jocelyn straightened up, she felt something fall from her shoulders. She looked down and saw the blanket crumped against the back of her seat. That's odd. She didn't even remember falling sleep, let alone grabbing a blanket.

Rubbing her eyes, Jocelyn turned the monitor on and squinted at the screen. The call appeared to be heavily encrypted. The computer couldn't even identify the caller. Still, it wasn't like anybody could reach them. She accepted the call.

"Yeah, sorry for the absurdly early call," came a voice. Jocelyn knew who it was right away.

"Barbara?"

"Uh-huh. To be honest, I'm kind of surprised you're up right now."

"You actually woke me up," Jocelyn admitted, and then yawned.

There was a yawn on Oracle's end. "Ugh, it's so contagious," she mumbled. "Anyway, I need to deliver a message to you."

"Me?"

"Yeah. Well, you and Jason. Is he there?"

"I think he's asleep."

"That's fine. You can tell him later." Yeah, right. They weren't exactly on speaking terms at the moment. "It's from the mayor."

"How did the mayor reach you?"

"Actually, one of his guys reached out to Tim, who then told me, and now I'm telling you. He'd ask you and Jason directly, but he has no idea how to reach you. So I guess his next option was this weird game of telephone."

"Mmhmm… so what is this message? The same one that GCPD's given us: if we ever find you, you're going down?"

"No, not exactly." Barbara explained the mayor's request. It was something Jocelyn never saw coming.

* * *

 _ **Addendum: I yawned too. And I bet you have too. If not, do it. You know you want to! YAWN.**_

 _ **Good news and bad news. The good news is that I got accepted into the undergraduate master's degree program for my major (meaning I'll graduate with both a bachelor's and master's). The bad news is that because I got accepted, coupled with being an officer for a university organization and possibly being a teaching assistant, I'll probably be drowning in work once classes start. That means updates are going to suffer horrendously. Or not. We'll see.**_


	4. Chapter 4 - Any Questions?

"This is dumb," Jason mumbled, standing near the back of the room with his arms crossed. "I still think this is a trap."

"Is that why you're all garbed up? Gotta be ready to save your sweetheart if it hits the fan, right?" Barbara teased as she pulled up the Clocktower's largest projected screen. "Lighten up, Jason. Bruce used to have to do this all the time too, remember?"

"Oh, how could I forget?" The projection showed a live broadcast from one of Gotham's biggest news stations. At the moment, it only showed an empty podium in Elms Plaza. The podium was often used as a hotspot for political campaigns, protests, and the like. Today it had a different use.

The low buzz of background conversation could be heard in the background. Reporters were warming up and getting ready. It hadn't started yet. Barbara muted the broadcast and wheeled around to face Jason.

"So is that why you're here and not there?" she asked. "In case something happens?"

"No," Jason replied. "I'm not interested in the mayor's offer, even if he claims temporary immunity to sanction. When Jocelyn told me about it, I said he could take that offer and shove it up his ass. Live interviews are dumb. Public speaking is dumb. And Gotham's vigilante culture is all kinds of messed up. One moment, the public's demanding we be locked up in prison, and the next, they're worshipping us like celebrities."

"I take it you read that article in the Gazette last week," Barbara said.

"The washed up one about us? I heard about it."

"They need to replace whoever wrote that. I mean, _really?_ I bet Jo wasn't too pleased."

"Mm," Jason muttered unenthusiastically. It had been a few days since the incident at the warehouses, but their little rift hadn't completely healed. The mention of her didn't exactly delight him at the moment.

"Oh, and uh… Tim's going to be here soon. He said he wanted to watch the interview too."

"Okay. So?"

"Just letting you know."

Jason shrugged. "All right."

Barbara considered Jason for a few seconds before reaching up to adjust her glasses. She turned back to the keyboard and began working on something on a smaller screen to occupy herself. "I don't mean to pry, but are you two all right?"

"Why are you asking?"

"It's just… When Jo was here earlier, things seemed a little tense. Everything okay?"

"It hasn't been okay for a while," Jason admitted. "It's nothing serious. Just a little road bump." After a pause, he continued, "But I just wished she wasn't so damn unreasonable."

"Unreasonable?"

If there was one thing Jason was undeniably good at, it was withstanding any pain and misery bottled up inside of him. But there were things now he wanted to get off his chest, things he didn't quite understand. And right now, Barb was the best person to vent to. "She just treats me like she's concerned all the time. Like I'm some kind of unstable, ticking bomb. Yeah, I get that you'd treat any other person who's been through what I've been through like that, but at least _she_ should know me better! That's what drives me crazy!"

Barbara looked over her shoulder. "Have you told her any of this?"

"Y—," Jason stopped and thought for a second. "Well, no. I don't like talking."

"That's what we're doing now."

"But with her, there's something… I get this feeling from her every time I'm around her. I don't know how to explain it. But it's like she's still hoping things will go back to… _before_. That…" He was forcing the words through his gritted teeth. "That I'll turn back into… Robin."

"Hey guys! I'm not late, am I?" announced the loud, cheery voice. Jason backed a few more paces into the darkness as Tim Drake pulled aside the rickety elevator door and stepped into the loft. He gave Jason a brief glance and nod as he passed. When he reached Barbara, he stooped down to give her a one-armed hug and a kiss on the temple. "Hey, hun. You doing good?"

"Yeah," Barbara replied. "And you got here just in the nick of time." She unmuted the broadcast as the mayor was ending his preliminary speech. Every so often, the occasional camera flash would light up the mayor's face.

As he introduced the Specter, he held an arm out. Then, beside him, a figure suddenly appeared out of thin air. That sent the off-screen crowd into frenzy. The irregular camera flash transformed into a continuous barrage of brilliant light from the rapid-fire cameras trying to catch as many images of the Specter as possible.

Underneath his helmet, Jason scoffed. He was willing to bet his dual handguns that the mayor had asked Jo to materialize like that beforehand. And despite her face being masked, he could tell how stunned she was. He knew she'd never had that much attention focused on her at once. For some reason, her being so utterly dumbfounded was kind of adorable.

"Her helmet is too reflective," he heard Barbara murmur to Tim. "They're going to get terrible picture quality with all that flashing. Someone should tell those buffoons to switch to high-dynamic-range instead."

After a minute of nonstop flashes and clicks, the mayor took to the stand again. "Before we open the floor to everyone's much-anticipated questions, let us have our esteemed speaker give us a few words first." He stepped away from the microphones and gave the Specter an expecting look. She stared at him, and then turned timidly towards the podium.

"Wh… What is there to say?" she wondered. She was legitimately asking.

"What is there, indeed?" the mayor said, taking one of the mics. "For there are no words needed for one of Gotham's legendary pairs! How about beginning with why the other half of your duo, the Red Hood, isn't here with us?"

'Because he's not interested in your fancy-pants bullshit,' Jason answered in his head. On the screen, the Specter looked towards the audience and slowly surveyed them.

"Th-the Red Hood… He…" she trailed off as the remaining microphone whined loudly from the feedback. She reached over and adjusted the microphone until the sound stopped. "If you really want to know," the Specter continued, her voice suddenly gaining fervor, "it's because the Red Hood chose not to appear today. He's a man who favors his fists and guns, not the things that make us civilized like words and reason."

Tim snickered at her snide remark, but was quickly silenced by a sharp elbow to the ribs from Barbara.

"Furthermore, there is no need for both of us to simply answer a few questions. If you have anything you'd like to ask, then go ahead and shoot."

That sent a hectic chorus of shouting voices flared up. It was impossible to discern any coherent sentences from the cacophony. "The sooner you all settle down and let me understand what you're saying, the sooner you'll get your answers," the Specter snapped. The voices died down but did not completely stop. Then, a particularly loud reporter shouted, "Were you responsible for the bombing of the abandoned warehouses four days ago?"

"Let's get some facts straight first," the Specter stated. "Those warehouses were not as abandoned as you would think. We found the place active with criminals trying to smuggle explosives into the city, all conducted by Oswald "Penguin" Cobblepot. We didn't bomb the warehouses on purpose. We merely destroyed the shipments. It doesn't take much imagination to infer what kind of future events you all would be reporting on had that smuggling operation been successful."

"The police estimates that at least a dozen casualties occurred from the incident," another voice sounded out. "Gotham's vigilantes have always adhered to Batman's code. Why are you and the Red Hood acting differently?"

There it was: the ethics question. Jason knew it was coming sooner or later. He was curious about how Jocelyn would handle it. She was still a little too soft when it came to giving those lowlifes what they deserved. Maybe she'd find another way to insult Jason on live television.

"I admit, the police have good reason to have us on their wanted list," the Specter began cautiously. "But as heartless as it sounds, this is the most effective way. Think back to when Batman was still in Gotham. Crime lords and common thugs alike suffered under him, but despite that, _they still kept coming back_. Countless innocent lives have been claimed because these criminals weren't scared of justice. They need to be scared, and at the same time, they need to be _stopped_. What we are doing is a necessary evil. A greater good that, at the same time, is ugly."

Hmm, poetic. It wasn't exactly how Jason would put it, but whatever.

"How do you think Batman would react to what the two of you are doing?"

"We'd probably be behind bars with a few bruises."

There were a few more questions thrown out that Jason didn't particularly care about. Things like the Specter's opinion on a few of Gotham's notorious criminals, political campaigns, Red Robin and Nightwing, and some other boring shit. They even tried to get information on the Specter and Red Hood's origins, but of course Jocelyn was very tight-lipped and vague in her answers. He was seriously glad he wasn't part of that snoozefest.

Of course, then a few interesting questions came up. "Several years ago, there was another person in Gotham who went by the name of 'Specter' and looked similar to you. Was that also you?"

There was a pause, and then the Specter said, "I will say that I drew inspiration from her. But that girl and I are not the same person." It was a lie, but there was something in her voice as she said it.

"Nevertheless, many have drawn parallels between your current partnership with that of the previous Specter's and the then-Robin. Those two were confirmed to be in a relationship."

Jason's fingers tightened at the mention of his long-dead title. The Specter looked visibly tense as well.

"Let's finally put this to rest," she said, poorly hiding the strain in her voice. "The Red Hood and I are merely partners. Nothing more, nothing less."

"But—."

"No more questions," the Specter interrupted. "This interview is over." Before anyone else could protest, her silver form vanished completely from the podium. The broadcast ended.

Tim straightened up. "That wasn't so bad for her first public appearance," he remarked.

"I remember mine," Barbara said as she closed the blank broadcast and turned the overhead lights back on. "You were there too, remember? There was this crazy guy who jumped up on stage and—."

"And tried to pull off your mask! Yeah, I remember that!" Tim finished, desperately trying to hold in his laughter. "Oh man, and _Bruce_ was there too! It did not end well for that guy." He apparently remembered that Jason was still there, his joviality vanishing. "Oh… Ah… You're waiting on her, right?"

"Yeah," Jason grunted.

"So what did you think of that interview?" Tim asked.

Jason shrugged. They fell to heavy silence.

Barbara wheeled around to face Jason. "What she said about the necessary evil… Do you really believe that?"

Finally uncrossing his arms, Jason replied, "Look Barb, I know Bruce drilled it into our heads that killing isn't right. That's because he was restrained by his own past. I'm not going to fault you for carrying on with his code, but I've moved past it."

Before Barbara could reply, they heard the sound of the rooftop entrance opening. A silver figure dropped down.

"There she is," Tim said, relief in his voice.

Jocelyn let out a breathy sigh. "I was shaking the whole time," she admitted. "Could you see it?"

"I didn't notice," Barbara answered. "But at least it's over now."

Jocelyn turned back to Jason. "Okay. Let's go home."

"'Just partners?'" he quoted, clearly irritated.

"Yes," Jocelyn said irately. "What about it?"

Jason looked away. "Nothing."

Both Tim and Barbara watched the exchange speechlessly. "Oh… kay…" Tim began uneasily. He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "I'll just be over in this corner doing… busy… stuff." He quickly scurried away.

Jocelyn shot one last glance at Jason and headed out of the Clocktower herself. He waited until she was out before following after her. His conversation with Barbara earlier rose into his mind. Maybe it was time.

She was waiting for him at the edge of the Clocktower's sloped roof. She couldn't traverse on top of the buildings without his help. Without a word, he wrapped an arm around her waist and shot out the zip line to the nearest rooftop. When they landed on the other building, Jocelyn pulled away from him and began walking.

"Jo, wait," Jason called out apprehensively. "Hey, can we talk about some things?"

Jocelyn stopped, and then kept walking.

"Jo—."

"You can talk," she replied. "Meanwhile, I'll be over here wondering what happened to the real Jason."

"I'm serious."

"Okay, fine." Jocelyn turned and walked back to him. "What do you want?"

"We… We've been like this too many times," Jason said. "I'm tired of this. I'm tired of arguing and getting pissed and everything." He lifted his red helmet up, revealing his face to the cool night air. "I know you are too. So can we…?"

"Can this even still work?" Jocelyn interrupted.

Her words, their implication, startled him. He even felt a hint of fear. "Of course it can," he insisted. "We're badasses. We've been through tougher times."

"That's the problem," Jocelyn said sadly. Suddenly, she stepped forward and threw her arms around Jason. "Yeah, you're right. I'm tired. Trying to hate you for four days is exhausting."

Jason hugged her back. Then he reached up and gently tugged her helmet off. He was finally able to see her face, to look her in the eyes. She gave him a sheepish smile. "Sorry for roasting you on TV."

"It's no big deal," Jason assured. "Everything's fine. Time to kiss and make up, right?" He leaned down as Jocelyn placed both hands on either side of his face. When they kissed, they lingered for a little longer, savoring their tiny oasis of happiness.

When they parted, he saw a certain gleam in Jocelyn's eyes as she gave him a certain, familiar look. "Hmm, I'm thinking there might be a little more than mentioned in the 'make up' part," she suggested.

"Oh?" Jason's hands slid further down.

Jocelyn caught them and pulled them back up. "Easy there, cowboy. Patience is a virtue."

"What a shame. I'm feeling particularly sinful tonight." The apartment had never felt further away.

* * *

 _"No more questions. This interview is over."_ The video stopped the instant before the Specter disappeared. On the screen, the still image zoomed in on her masked face.

"Well," a voice mused. "It appears we have found the final piece to our puzzle. I think it's time to pay Gotham City a little visit."

"Of course."

* * *

 _ **Addendum: Cover image is up. It took a while because of all... that.. coloring. And I had to redesign the Specter's appearance. And by "redesign," I mean I crossed my eyes, hit my forehead with a hammer six times, and then scribbled out a design until the bleeding stopped. So enjoy. Don't worry. My brain am still thunk good.**_

 ** _Almost gave away identities on rooftop; dmhs._**

 _ **And yeah, public speaking really does suck. I had to take a communications course that made us do a lot of speeches. Absolute nightmare.**_


	5. Chapter 5 - I See Everything

_Gotham is broken. If you agree, then converge._

That simple message, along with an address, was sent to every crime boss and dangerous individual worth their salt. The address led to an old movie theater, the kind that used to show old, bygone films for a dollar per ticket. It had only one viewing room. The room once was filled with simple metal chairs, but most were either stolen or broken by vandals.

For many years after business had run out, the theater saw nothing but dust and vermin. Now it was filled to the brim with an assortment of oddities, the many characters that drove terror into Gotham. Many of them were hotheaded, violent, and unstable. The air in the room was filled with a waiting tension, burning like a thin wire wick towards all-out chaos.

"'Broken' is the word, all right," a stout figure complained to the handful of henchmen around him. He jabbed an accusing finger towards a certain individual in a half-burned suit that was standing a little ways away. "Can't even get a simple laundering operation done without this greedy twat getting in the way."

Two Face turned towards Penguin, the dim incandescent bulb illuminating the mutilations on his face. "Watch what you say, Cobblepot," he growled in his harsh voice. "You wouldn't want to end up on the wrong side of the coin, would you?"

"You're not scaring anyone with that worn out lump of metal," Penguin quipped back.

"No? Then I've got a special 'lump of metal' for you right here." Two Face pulled a handgun out and pointed it lazily towards Penguin. With his other hand, he flipped the coin up and down. "Go on, short stack. Heads or tails?" His men, also holding guns, walked up to either side of their boss.

"You want to have a go? Bring it on." Penguin's men also came forth, guns at the ready.

Before either side could do anything, a loud, irate voice interrupted them. "Would you two meatheads quit it?" Harley Quinn demanded, jabbing her baseball bat roughly at one of Two Face's henchmen. "I want to know what this damn meeting's about, and that ain't gonna happen if you trigger-happy mouth breathers start lighting up the place!"

"Easy there, love," Penguin assured, still glaring daggers at Two Face. "We're just sorting things out with this cunt, that's all."

"Bah!" Two Face spat. "You're not worth the trouble." Both turned away and stormed in opposite directions, the steam trails almost visible.

"Jeez Louise, some people!" Harley muttered under her breath. There was a figure standing silently along the edge of the room that caught her attention. She crept silently through the dark room until she was practically next to the figure and the handful of warriors around her. "Don't think I've seen your face around here," she remarked out loud. The warriors jumped and whirled to face her, drawing their swords. Harley giggled. "That was real cute, that synchronization."

Their leader, who hadn't reacted, calmly raised her hand. The warriors lowered their swords, but kept them unsheathed. "I prefer to stay out of this city whenever possible," Nyssa Raatko replied. "But an important matter commanded me to come to Gotham two years ago. Now, once again, I find myself drawn here."

"Ahh, I recognize you fellas," Harley said. "League of Assassins, huh? _Fancy._ "

"Harley Quinn. Frankly, I'm surprised to see you out and about," Nyssa said. "Especially after the death of the Joker and what happened during Scarecrow's takeover."

"Funny you should say that," Harley responded, leaning on her bat like a cane and popping her hip to one side. "You know, I had a lot of time to myself to think and stuff when I was all locked up in the movie studios. I thought about how I spent so much time trying to bring Mr. J back, and heck, even the Batbrain tried it and failed. But then it all just came rushing down to me: maybe I don't have to bring him back! Maybe he's in me, like he was in all those other patients; but in a more beautiful, not-literal way. So I figured I'd carry on his legacy. It won't be the same as the way he used to do things, but a girl's gotta try, right?"

Crossing her arms, Nyssa said, "That's very… sweet."

"Isn't it? And now you're here too. I gotta say, I'm excited to finally have a gal I could run around and crack copper skulls with."

"That isn't what I do," Nyssa stated. "And it would be preferable if you didn't get used to this little alliance. I suspect it will be very short-lived, especially if we must collaborate with those beasts over there." She tilted her head towards the two shadows on the far side of the room. One of them, a very large silhouette, was crouched in the corner. His reptilian eyes glistened in the dark, and the yellow light barely illuminated his scales. The other one, standing in a small, empty spot, was a little hunched over and muttering quickly to himself. The incandescent ceiling lamp revealed the tally marks all over his skin.

"Yeah, I don't know what those wackos are doing here," Harley whispered, casting a quick glance over her shoulder at them.

"I guess our host needs all the help they can get," Nyssa remarked. "I'm not sure I like this hint of desperation. Reminds me too much of two years prior."

The ones named were just a few compared to the size of the entire gathering. Some, Harley vaguely recognized, and others she weren't familiar with at all. It usually wasn't wise to bunch so many volatile personalities together, but something pulled them all in tonight. She had a feeling she knew what that 'something' was. After all, it was the reason she had come here too.

Suddenly, the feeble light went out and sent the whole room in darkness. But it wasn't like that for long. The screen, dusty and cracked, came on. It barely lit up the room, as it showed nothing but a black backdrop. Then, one by one, white letters showed up as though they were being typed on the spot.

 **Welcome.**

 **I would like to extend my cordiality to all who have chosen wisely.**

"Is this some kind of joke?" Penguin scoffed with disgust. "Some wackjob with a keyboard trying to be funny?" The previous words disappeared. New text quickly filed in.

 **I'm afraid my sense of humor is only subpar, Mr. Cobblepot.**

 **Now onto the subject at hand. I am sure you will all agree with me when I say that there is something glaringly wrong with Gotham City.**

The white letters and black background were quickly replaced by a blurry image of two moving subjects. Even with the poor quality, it was obvious who the two people in the picture were. After a couple of seconds, the screen returned to black. The words returned, gliding across the screen with each additional letter.

 **You all have some sort of vested interest in these two individuals.**

 **I have a proposition: to eliminate them. I will require aid from each of you. In return, you will have your city back.**

"You obviously have not been keeping up with the news," Nyssa said, "or else you would have seen what happened to the last person who tried to lock Gotham down and take out their 'savior.'"

"I bet he's still in that cell now," Two Face added. "Shaking and hallucinating about those damn bats he keeps screaming about."

 **I am well aware of Dr. Crane's failure. Rest assured, this operation will not be a repeat.**

 **You will all have a personal reason to go along with my plans. Mr. Cobblepot, how much potential profit went up in flames along with those smuggled explosives?**

In the dark, Penguin's face grew sour. His hands tightened to fists.

 **Mr. Dent, how many of your men have you lost? Permanently? The numbers are dwindling fast, I speculate, as supply no longer meets demand.**

"I've had common street thugs turn away from me, preferring to live in trash over what I could offer them," Two Face grumbled. "It's because of those two fuckers. They're scaring good hands away with all their killing."

 **Ms. Raatko, you owe a great debt to the late Bruce Wayne, don't you? After all, Batman helped you with something that was very important to you. And now you suspect that these two, namely the Red Hood, have something to do with Batman's death. Is that why you are in Gotham?**

"You don't need me to tell you that you're correct, do you?" Nyssa replied, her eyes stony. One by one, the speaker in the screen reached out to each individual in the room with alarmingly personal information. But with each statement, the speaker was right. One by one, they won over the audience. All of them had some reason to want the Red Hood and Specter dead.

 **Mr. Zsasz, I know you have a very deep interest in the Specter herself. With Batman gone, the tally for that special spot on your body has been reserved for her. She should consider herself quite lucky, no?**

Finally, there was one last person to address.

 **Ms. Quinzel, I know you have suffered a very tragic loss. You've tried to put on a brave face, tell everyone that you've moved on, but you and I both know the truth of the matter.**

 **However, I bring you promising news: those thought to be long gone can be brought back. I can bring** _ **him**_ **back. It is possible.**

Harley's face scrunched as she thought back to what happened in Panessa Studios. "But—," she began, but new text flew onto the screen.

 **What Batman tried to do is child's play compared to what I can do. I require the smallest sample to be able to create a perfect restoration. I should know. The very thing has happened to me.**

 **Well, Ms. Quinzel? If you help me, I'll help you.**

The speaker didn't wait for Harley to respond. They seemed to already know how she'd respond. The old text was cleared away.

 **I believe this wraps up our delightful meeting. When the time is right, I will be sending individual instructions to you all. Follow them, and victory will be ours. There is nothing more to discuss. Good night.**

"Hold on. There's one more thing," Nyssa spoke out. "You've given us a lot of reasons on why we should follow you, but you haven't given us the most important one: who are you, and why should we trust you?"

The black screen remained still for a moment as all eyes trained on it, waiting for the answer. Then, the text appeared. This time, each letter appeared slowly, deliberately.

 **I am the Overseer, and I see everything.**

* * *

Lying on his back, he stretched his arms out until he felt the tips of his knuckles hit the headboard. He released the stretch with a deep exhale, feeling like a million bucks. He rolled onto his side towards her. She was lying with her back towards him.

It was already starting to get into the early hours of the morning, but Jason didn't feel like sleeping just yet. He scooted across the bed to wrap his arms around her from behind. As he did, he felt his chest press against her bare back. _Damn_ , this was a feeling he had really missed.

Jocelyn, who had apparently been on the verge of falling asleep, let out a gruff grunt.

"Hey there, sexy," Jason teased, his voice muffled as he buried his face in her neck. "You all tired out? I'll take that as a compliment."

Jocelyn gave a half-assed attempt at pushing him away. "Get off," she mumbled. "You're sweaty."

"So are you."

"Don't let it _mingle_ ," Jocelyn protested. "That's gross."

"Gross? Jo, there was a lot more 'mingling' ten minutes ago that you didn't seem to mind."

"And you're like a furnace," Jocelyn continued. "I feel like I'm being hugged by an oven."

Finally, a little playful banter that didn't escalate into bad feelings and separate rooms. "Add a few thousand degrees and that's what you're like every night. Except tonight you're like an ice cube."

All traces of sleepiness seemed to evaporate from Jocelyn. She flipped around to face him. "That's because you're stealing all of my heat," she replied playfully. "Give it back!"

"Maybe I don't want to!"

"Then you're gonna get the feet!"

"Oh fuck, not the feet!" Even on a normal night, the biting Siberian winters couldn't compare to the way Jocelyn's feet felt. And on some occasions, the sadist liked to press her icicle appendages against his back without warning.

Jocelyn laughed. "But seriously, it's really late." She rolled onto her stomach, her face smushed against the pillow.

"All right. Sleep tight, baby."

"Mmph."

"I love you."

"Mmph."

She dropped off to sleep in record time, leaving Jason staring silently up at the ceiling. This was a good night. Things were really starting to look up.

* * *

 _ **Addendum: I honestly don't know why our feet are so cold like that. It probably has something to do with the body trying to protect the uterus by reserving extra body heat to it. But feet are important too, body!**_

 _ **( Spoilers for the Arkham Knight DLC: Season of Infamy!) This story is going to go along the Ra's mission choice that you helped Nyssa and killed Ra's. I preferred it that way, even though the other choice is supposedly the canon one.**_

 _ **Here are some spoilers. The Overseer is actually that notorious hacker, 4chan. Not really.**_


	6. Chapter 6 - Incoming Call

"You know, I've been thinking about this a lot lately. There's something I need to ask you."

It came out of nowhere. Those two words froze Jocelyn up faster than one of Mr. Freeze's ice guns. Her fingers hovered tensely over the keyboard before she collected herself enough to turn around to face him.

But instead of paying the same amount of attention, Jason was lounging back in his chair, browsing through the computer's playlist on the den's second computer.

"Yes?"

"Jo." He sat up and looked at her. Jocelyn felt her skin tingle in anticipation with… something. Was it excitement? Fear? Yeah, there was definitely a little fear.

"You want to ask me something?"

"Yeah." He propped a leg up and rested an arm across his knee. "How do you not fall through the world?"

"… Huh?" That was not what she expected.

"You know, when you do that phasing thing. How come you don't fall through the ground?"

"Oh." A little disheartened, Jo turned back to the monitor and continued typing. "I don't understand it completely myself. Verlix explained it to me once but… you know how he was." She stopped typing and placed hand under her chin. "It's the Specter suit; it kind of 'calculates' which surface is the ground by using the orientation of gravity. So basically it recognizes where the floor is and renders it unphasable."

"Hmm. Okay."

Apparently that was it. Jocelyn lowered her eyes, her attention suddenly being drawn to the little desk drawer next to her. Then she remembered something.

"Oh, so… you know how we weren't talking those past few days?" she began uneasily.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Jason answered phonily. "As far as I remember, it's been nothing but flowers and rainbows and butterfly kisses." He looked up to see Jocelyn staring at him with slightly annoyed eyes. "Fine, yeah. What about it? Aren't we good now?"

"We are," Jocelyn assured. "It's just, well, I went out during one of those days and I…" She looked back and opened the drawer. "Um, I went back to the tunnel where, you know—the lair. The tunnel was all caved in, but the lair was… It was a mess, but it was still… Well I hadn't gone there since…" She trailed off. The wheels on Jason's chair rumbled quietly as he rolled himself over. "Anyway, I found this." She pulled out something thin and frail. An old photograph. The color was incredibly faded, and there were scuff marks and tears all over it. Even then, the image was still discernable. A girl with dark gold hair and a boy with black, messy hair were lying in the grass next to each other, looking up at the camera. It had been a long, _long_ time since that picture was taken.

"Now this takes me way back," Jason said, taking the photograph and examining it. "Damn, I was a pretty good-looking kid, wasn't I? No wonder you fell for me as hard as you did."

"Oh _please,_ " Jocelyn scoffed as she leaned back in her chair. "Who was the one who had to bribe the other for a date?"

"Well I figured you needed a little encouragement before confessing your feelings," Jason replied craftily. He made to put the photograph back in the drawer, and spotted something else inside of it. It looked to be a palm-sized shard of something metal and dark brown. "Wait, is that…?"

"I don't know what got over me," Jocelyn admitted with almost a hint of shame. "I just saw all the rocks and thought maybe I could… I don't know." She gingerly raised the metal fragment with both hands. It was a piece from Verlix's android body. On the piece was a doodled pink heart that had managed to resist all the wear and tear. "I guess I thought I could try to dig him back out—to just see him again. But there were so many rocks, and I couldn't move all of them. This was all I managed to find."

She avoided Jason's eyes, feeling guilty all of a sudden. "I know. It's pretty pitiful, and I know that. That tunnel, and everything down there, is gone. It's just that… we weren't talking, and I felt so _alone_."

"You don't need to say anything, Jo. I know exactly how you feel," Jason said. "Those few years after I finally got out of Gotham, I had nobody." Jocelyn grew silent. Jason hardly ever talked about what had happened to him after his supposed death. "Sure, I had an army. I had a whole legion behind me. But it wasn't the same; I was isolated still. All I had was cold, bitter respect. I didn't have a family anymore. Well…" He put his hand over Jocelyn's, fitting his fingers in the space between hers. "Not until now."

"Family?" Jocelyn repeated softly. "Us?"

"You don't think of us that way?"

"Don't get me wrong, Jason. As stupid and corny as this sounds, you are my everything. Ugh," she groaned. "Yeah, that really does sound dumb. Anyway, what I meant was… When I think of family, I think of a mom, dad, and kids. That kind of thing."

"Kids…" Jason muttered. They gazed wordlessly at each other for a while, and then broke out into laughter. " _Kids._ Can you imagine?"

"Yeah, no," Jocelyn agreed. "I think you better keep the rubbers on for now."

"God forbid we ever run out."

"Oh, and speaking of running out…" Jocelyn crossed one leg over the other and rested her in on a fist. "We're about to run out of yogurt cups. Can you please, _please_ run out and get more? It's the brand with the red letters and cow standing on two legs. And don't even THINK about getting the low fat version."

Jason rolled his eyes. "We? I haven't even touched one. Didn't we just get a pack on Wednesday?"

"Jason, _please!_ I'll die if we run out!"

"Okay, okay, calm down! I'll get it done." Jason sighed. "You better realize how much I care, Jo. I hate going down to that store. That cashier—you've seen her, right? The one with the nose piercing? She always stares."

"Hmm," Jocelyn hummed playfully. "I'm feeling a little threatened."

"You know that's not why she's staring." His voice was devoid of any humor. Here they were again, at the topic they desperately tried to avoid but always managed to crash headlong into. Jocelyn grew a little nervous.

Then, Jason seemed to realize. "But whatever. She doesn't know the truth behind it. That's all that matters."

"She probably thinks you got a little too drunk one night," Jocelyn mused.

"If only that were the case," Jason mumbled wistfully. "But that's the thing. I can't stand being on the streets, pretending to be normal again. I hate seeing people living their lives so simply because nothing's ever happened to them. And what makes it worse is that it's none of their faults. They couldn't ever begin to understand. But you do, Jo. That's why I don't mind being around you."

Jocelyn leaned over her armrest, leaning her chin on his shoulder. "Well that's good. Otherwise living together would be a bitch, wouldn't it?"

"Who says it isn't?" Jason joked, pulling Jocelyn's head up to kiss her. "You yogurt fiend."

"If it bothers you so much, I'll go out."

"No, no, it's fine." He wrapped an arm around her and rested a hand on her hair.

"Look at us," Jocelyn said. "Two lonely people."

"Two messed up people."

"I prefer the politically correct term: severely fucked in the head."

"Well pardon me."

For a while, they stayed like that. Occasionally, Jason would run his fingers through Jocelyn's dark gold hair while she lay against him, her eyes closed. The computer ran through the playlist one by one, softly taking up the background. After an undefined amount of time, Jocelyn spoke up. "Jason?"

"Hmm?"

"The store closes at 11:30."

"Ah fuck, that's right!" As Jason stood, Jocelyn returned to her own chair. "Be back in 10, all right babe?"

"Thanks, Jason!" Jocelyn called out and he left the den. She listened to the front door open and close. All was silent, save for the music that played idly from the other computer. Jocelyn pulled herself back to the desk and stared at the computer monitor. These past few days had been pretty uneventful. Even though police sirens sounded daily, the Specter and Red Hood only showed up when they had a good reason to.

Once again, Jocelyn found her eyes drifting over to the drawer. She opened it a crack and peered at the brown piece of metal and the corner of the photograph. Had it been right to bring those back? If anything, they were signs that she still hadn't been able to move on. Maybe she should put them back? But, no…

As Jocelyn pondered, a slow realization came to her. There was a strange noise that had been going off for a while. It had been in the background, barely audible. Jocelyn hurried over to the other computer to pause the music and stood still to listen. There it was, soft and repetitive. A muffled beeping that was coming from… the Specter helmet.

Opening the closet door, Jocelyn took the helmet and peered inside of it. Now that it was in front of her, the beeping noise was louder. The internal comms unit installed inside the helmet was picking up a signal. Jocelyn glanced at the door. It had only been a few minutes. Jason was still going to take a while longer to get back.

She slipped the helmet over her head. Immediately, the digital interface on the interior of her helmet activated. The holographic display showed up with a small notification down in the corner of her mask. _INCOMING CALL_ , the notification read. Below that, it said that the source channel was… Axiom.

That was a name she hadn't seen in a long time. It shocked her. There was no way anyone in Axiom could be calling her. That organization had been disbanded years ago. All members, and all information about them, had disappeared.

But it was right there. She could see it with her own eyes. The impossible. And even then, something in her mind urged her to take the call. So she did.

"Hey," came a voice. "I know you're probably surprised."

"Are you…?"

"You know who I am. You still remember. It's been a while, hasn't it, Jocelyn Drei?"

* * *

 _ **Addendum: Jocelyn's attitude towards yogurt is exactly like mine towards coffee. "We're out of coffee?! Oh god, tell my family I love them!"**_

 _ **This was a very mellow, uneventful chapter. My apologies if that bothered you. There will be more action in the next chapter, I promise.**_


	7. Chapter 7 - Deep Within Dark Waters

_**I just want to take the time to thank everyone who has taken the time to read and provide feedback. You guys truly make this gal's day. But I also appreciate**_ ** _you_** _ **, silent, anonymous reader. Anyway, enjoy the chapter n'stuff.**_

* * *

Gotham was a city that was separated from the rest of the country, hanging onto the mainland by a few bridges that looked like threads from above. The meeting spot was at the city border, right up to the water's edge.

From where she stood, Gotham looked so vast that it stretched to either ends of the horizon. A few hours had passed since midnight, yet the city was completely alight. This place really was the East coast's Vegas.

Looking back, the Specter continued on her way. As a precaution, her cloak was engaged and she walked with light footsteps. Even then, she was nervous. There were just so many things off about this meeting. So many impossible chances that had occurred. This could very well be a trap, but she was willing to risk that to know what was going on.

Axiom had been a multi-national organization that was dedicated to taking out terrorist threats across the globe, big or small. When Jocelyn joined them after leaving Gotham, the organization had been fairly young. It had few numbers and poor equipment. But over the years she had been with it, Axiom grew. With her and Verlix's help, it became more advanced, more effective, and its numbers grew. Despite playing a major role in the organization, Jocelyn never really knew any of Axiom's people aside from the members in her task force. She worked with them in all of her missions. They became a close-knitted team; the only thing Jocelyn could call a family at the time aside from Verlix.

Then, one fateful day, a virus hit Axiom's headquarters. Undeterred, the virus dug out sensitive information on the identities of Axiom's members and began distributing them out. Verlix finally managed to destroy the virus and stop the leakage of information after a few hours, but the damage was irreversible. Agents out on the field were jeopardized. And worse, the families and friends of Axiom members became vulnerable. The last thing Axiom ever did over the next few months was try to clean up the exposed information and change identities to protect most of the agents and their loved ones. After that, the organization had no choice but to dissolve into nothingness. Jocelyn and Verlix returned to Gotham after hearing about Scarecrow and the Arkham Knight's domination over Gotham City. She never heard from Axiom since then.

Until last night, when he called her using that old, decrepit channel. Dust was shaken up from old memories, just as they had been two years ago when she faced the Arkham Knight. And once again, she was scared.

Finally, the Specter spotted a figure down at the bottom of the slope. He was leaning on one of the pillars that held the bridge up, staring out silently towards the black water. It certainly looked like him. Some of the Specter's trepidation ebbed away. She began to approach a little more carelessly. As she made her way down the slope, a few rocks were loosened by her feet and rolled down.

The man at the water's edge immediately looked towards the source of the noise. He unfolded his arms and straightened up. "If I didn't know you better, I'd be sorta creeped out," he said aloud. The Specter didn't answer. "Come on, enough fooling around. Now I'm really getting spooked." More silence. "I get it. Look, it's really me." The man stepped out from under the bridge so that the moonlight could illuminate his face. "My name is Connor Johannes, and I served with you in task force 778-C9. I have a 13-year-old daughter named Allie, and my wife's name was Kendra. Is that enough?"

"I never expected to see you again," the Specter replied as she appeared before him. "How did you find me?"

"You know me, Spec. We worked together long enough," Connor replied.

Spec. That was the nickname he gave her during the Axiom days, because apparently he couldn't be bothered with the second syllable. "How's Allie these days?"

"She's growing fast," Connor remarked.

"That's good to hear," the Specter said. "But now you've got a teenager in your hands."

"I survived the terrible two's. I think I'll be fine."

"If you say so." She looked down as water from the shore reached forward and lapped against her foot. "Anyway, what are you doing here? Weren't you relocated to somewhere overseas?"

"There's something important happening," Connor said. "That's why I've come to find you. Spec, I think it's time too—." He stopped, his eyes snapping towards the water. The Specter had heard it too. The faintest noise—like an abnormal swilling of water not caused by waves—had sounded from the black water. In any other place in the world, the sound could have been innocent. But this was Gotham. Even the smallest anomaly spelled trouble.

Suddenly, the water seemed to explode. The Specter's gut feeling had been right. A large figure burst from the water, slamming its body down onto the ground. The Specter and Connor managed to jump back from being crushed, but the impact trembled the earth so violently that they both fell over.

Sucking air through his bared fangs, Killer Croc regarded both humans with his orb-like eyes. His gaze concentrated on Connor. "New face," the reptilian man growled in his throaty voice. "New meat." With a snarl, he lunged at Connor with a clawed hand. Connor, who had managed to stand in the last second, dived to the ground as Killer Croc's claws passed over him. He unlatched a handgun from his belt holster and fired a bullet at the beast's arm. Killer Croc's scales were too thick.

"Weak human, weak toy," Killer Croc taunted. Opening his jaws, he bared down upon the downed man. Connor pulled a baton from his belt and caught the corners of Killer Croc's mouth with it before the teeth reached him. Grinding his teeth from the strain, Connor glanced at where the Specter had been. But the ground was empty.

The Specter appeared from her cloak mid-jump, landing on Killer Croc's back. She pulled her robotic fist back and slammed it into his side. The scales under her fist cracked from the blow. Killer Croc roared in pain, distracted. Connor took the opportunity to push the monster's jaws away from him. His foot flew up and connected with Killer Croc's chin.

Snarling viciously from pain and anger, Killer Croc reared up and began shaking his body, trying to throw the Specter off. She clung on, and when the shaking subsided, she drew the laser out from the interior of her robotic arm and fired in straight into the cracked scales. The flesh underneath was seared.

"Agh! You horrid, biting parasite!" Killer Croc screamed. Suddenly, he leaped into the water, the Specter still in tow. She heard Connor yelling for her as she submerged. The force of the water as she broke through its surface struck her far worse than any punch had. She didn't know how far into the depths Killer Croc had taken her before she finally had the sense to let go. Her head spun wildly and she struggled to orient herself. Which way was the surface? Everything was black, just pitch black.

"Little, little prey," she heard him say softly, his gurgled voice reaching her through the water. It was impossible to tell where his voice was coming from. "You're in my domain now. He wants you dead. After I devour you, the other one's next." Terrified, Jocelyn waved her arms in a desperate attempt to swim towards… somewhere. In the water, she was vulnerable. If she phased, she'd fall through the water until she hit the ocean floor. The suit would treat the water like any other wall, any other obstacle besides the ground, and go through it.

The Specter scanned the water for anything. It was just black. She couldn't even see the large, swimming beast that she just _knew_ was nearby. But there was the cloak! Jocelyn engaged it, quickly vanishing into the black.

"I still see you," came the ominous voice. "The motions you make in the water, I feel them." Jocelyn dropped the cloak. She needed all of her concentration to hold her breath and swim. Her helmet was slowly filling up with water, the small pocket of air within it diminishing fast. But with each stroke, she felt the burning in her chest growing more and more intense.

Suddenly, a blurry motion in the corner of her eye caught her attention. Instinctively, she looked. And when she did, she opened her mouth to scream, though the sound was completely snuffed out by the water. An open, gaping mouth filled with needle-like teeth flew at her. The Specter couldn't get out of the way in time. Killer Croc collided into her with a force like a train. His jaws closed in over her torso, his razor-like teeth piercing the suit and stabbing her flesh. The Specter would've shrieked with agony, but there was no air left.

She tried to hit Killer Croc's head over and over again with her robotic arm, but the drag of the water softened her blows. She felt them rushing through the water and knew that he was taking her down deeper. The pain was starting to fade fast, and that was a bad thing. Her consciousness wouldn't hold out for much longer. With the last of her strength, the Specter pointed her arm and directed the concentrated beam of laser at Killer Croc's eye. She felt him jerk sharply. There was a terrible, shrill howl that resonated through the water. The Specter felt herself being thrown. She tumbled through the water, unable to control her limp body. The last thing she remembered was how cold she felt, and how she hoped that Jason would never find her body after Killer Croc was done with it.

* * *

When she opened her eyes, she saw black. As everything came rushing back to her, she quickly became panicked. She was still down in the water! He was going to kill her!

With a weak cry, Jocelyn's whole body jolted. Then there came a gentle voice.

"Whoa, easy there, Spec. You're safe now."

It wasn't the voice she had heard in the depths. It was… him! "C-Connor?" The black she saw was only the cloudy night sky. Then, his face appeared in her sight.

"Yeah, it's me. I'm glad you're okay. When I went in to get you, I thought I wasn't going to make it in time." He helped Jocelyn sit up. "Looks like you managed to scare the big guy away," he remarked, staring out into the water. "I didn't see him at all when I went down. Then again, I could barely see anything at all."

"I burned out one of his eyes," Jocelyn admitted in a hoarse voice.

"Well shit. I don't think we'll be seeing him for a while then."

"No, he'll be back. He can regenerate." Jocelyn grunted in pain as her arm flew to her stomach. She saw blood seeping out from under her hand. "H-he bit me."

"I saw that. Nastier than any shark bite I've ever seen."

"I need to get home. J-Jas—."

"You're in no fit condition to travel," Connor insisted. "There's an abandoned gas station not too far from here. We can rest up there, and then see about heading back into the city in the morning." Jocelyn treated the wound with her small bottle of sterilizing fluid. Connor tore pieces from the bottom of his jacket to use as makeshift bandaging. Then, with her arm over Connor's shoulders, Jocelyn managed to get back onto her feet. They slowly made their way up the slope and into the gas station's empty convenience store. Just moving was an effort. Pain shot through her body with every step she took. When they got to the building, Jocelyn dropped away from Connor and collapsed heavily onto the ground.

"I'm fine," she insisted when she saw the look of concern cross the man's face.

"Okay. I'm going to look around from any kind of bedding. Meanwhile, I guess you're going to tell Verlix what happened?"

Connor hadn't been in Gotham two years ago. He didn't know about Verlix. And tonight, the pain and fear she had gone through was making her emotional. She felt tears well up in her eyes. "Verlix is gone," she managed to say. "Jason's all that I have left." And right now, she wanted him there more than ever. But for some reason, another part of her didn't want him to see her like this.

"Jason?" Connor repeated. "I… see." He turned away. "I won't be far. Yell if you need me."

"Will do." When Connor was gone, Jocelyn activated the comms link and established a channel to the den. She only hoped that he'd be able to hear the computer. But after a few seconds, she dropped the call. Letting him know what had happened would just cause more trouble. Besides, he was probably asleep.

There were footsteps. "Look at this!" Connor mused, holding up the fruits of his labor. "Not bad at scavenging, huh? We got us here some cardboard and Styrofoam. Sorry to give you the hobo treatment, but it's all this place has."

"Better than bare ground," Jocelyn mumbled.

Connor crouched down and began laying the pieces out. "How are you holding up, Spec?"

Before Jocelyn could answer, there was another voice. "So we're giving each other pet names now?" Leaning against the doorway, arms crossed against his chest, was the Red Hood.

* * *

 _ **Addendum: Oh shit BUSTED. How awkward.**_

 _ **That's one of the things that absolutely terrifies me and makes my palms sweat: being trapped in dark/murky water with no idea what kind of nightmarish hellspawn is around me (much less a giant, bloodthirsty crocodile man). Good thing I live in a land-locked place.**_


	8. Chapter 8 - This Connor Guy

The guns were out and trained on one another before the two men even locked eyes. A knife wouldn't even have been able to cut through the tension. As Jocelyn watched, she felt a deep-seated dread. She knew how this looked. It was going to be a hell of an effort to get out of this situation.

"Your reflexes aren't bad," Connor remarked. "Mind telling me who you are?"

"You don't need to know," the Red Hood shot back. "Jo, you wanna tell me what the hell is going on here?"

"Jo?" Connor looked at Jocelyn. "You know him?"

"Hey shut it, asshole," the Red Hood snapped.

"Jason, stop," Jocelyn said. "Connor… this is him."

"Him?" Connor lowered his gun. "Jason Todd? Aren't you supposed to be dead?"

"I _said_ shut. It." It was then the Red Hood noticed the red stains across Jocelyn's torso. "What is…? What the fuck did you do?" he growled accusingly at Connor as he crouched down next to Jocelyn.

"It was Killer Croc," Jocelyn explained. "He pulled me into the water and bit me."

The Red Hood lifted Jocelyn's arm away from her stomach and inspected the wounds. "And what were you _doing_ by the water?" There was a hint of bitterness in his voice.

"Do you think this was some kind of fling? I'm in my Specter suit!"

"You really want me to answer that?"

"Connor is an old friend!"

"Oh sure," the Red Hood hissed. "They always start out as friends, don't they?"

Connor spoke up. "Hey now. I have no interest in her, okay? I have my own family, my own child. Jocelyn and I worked together in the past; we were just partners."

" _Just partners_ ," the Red Hood repeated in a biting voice. "I've heard that before."

"Jason!" Jocelyn snapped angrily. "Connor and I were both a part of Ax—." She stopped abruptly. She couldn't mention Axiom to him; she had taken her vow of silence right before they disbanded. They all had. "It's… it's confidential. But he called me out here to talk about something. Then Killer Croc snuck up on us."

"And you couldn't tell me about any of this because…?"

"I told you. It's confidential."

The Red Hood stood up. "This is bullshit. Just straight fucking bullshit," he seethed. "You guys want to talk? Fine! Talk away! Talk as much as you want! I'm out of here." As he left the convenience store, he slammed the door so hard that the glass panels shattered. Jocelyn leaned her head back against the wall, squeezing her eyes shut. "He's always like this," she whispered to herself.

"Always like this?" Connor quoted. "You mean between you and him?"

"I…" Jocelyn opened her eyes. "I didn't mean it like that. It's complicated, Connor. Both of us have been through a lot. Him especially. Sometimes… sometimes we just get frustrated."

"And you take it out on each other?" Connor guessed.

"No—well, there are times when we do things that irk each other. Sometimes, when I'm around him, it's like trying to balance on a tripwire. But that's just sometimes," she added quickly. "Other times, we're happy. We have one another, and that's enough."

There was a long pause as Connor considered her words. "So… it sounds like you both think the other is the problem. That's not a good mindset to have."

"I know. This whole thing is just… messy… complicated."

"All relationships are kinda like that. I was married for seven years, remember?"

"You weren't married to _him_ ," Jocelyn grumbled.

Connor laughed. "That's true. But everyone's the same when it comes to falling in love. It's so easy. _Staying_ in love is the real tricky thing. When was the last time you two went out on a date?"

"We clean out a few bad guys every now and then," Jocelyn pointed out. "Though lately, fighting together has been the source of our arguments."

"No, I mean like a _real_ date. You know, going out. Doing something quiet and intimate together."

"Oh. Um…" To be honest, she couldn't actually remember. When she thought of actual dates, all that came to mind were the ones they went on when Jason had still been Robin. Was it really that long ago? "I can't remember. Jason doesn't really like going out when his mask isn't on." She looked up to see Connor watching her with a concerned look. "I know," she said meekly. "We're pretty dysfunctional, aren't we?"

"Dysfunctional? Spec, dysfunctional doesn't begin to even scratch the surface for you two."

Jocelyn looked down at her lap. Having the truth spelled out to her face now by Connor was painful. Deep down, she had always known that things weren't exactly working out between them. But a larger part of her chose to ignore it. "I still love him," she argued. "And I don't want to be alone."

"So that's the flimsy glue that's been keeping you together?" Connor asked softly.

"Love isn't enough, is it?" Jocelyn said cynically. "Maybe it'd be better if we just cut it off and go our separate ways, instead of torturing ourselves with this sorry excuse of a relationship." Even as she said the words, that large part of her fell once again into heavy denial. "No, I can't," she mumbled. "I care about him. I do. What would I do without him?"

There was a quiet scuffling noise as Connor rose to his feet. "Just rest here, okay?" he said. "I'll be right back." Jocelyn didn't even seem to notice.

* * *

The night was cool and, for once, quiet. The Red Hood watched the blinking lights of the antennae tower, one leg propped up and the other dangling off the edge of the bridge. The gas station was a smudge in his peripheral vision, but he refused to look in that direction.

The rage that had ignited every cell in his body simmered down a little now that he had a moment to sit and think. He had to admit; he figured the worst when he had first come upon Jocelyn and Connor. But Jo, she wasn't the kind of person who would do something like that. Not to mention the Specter suit and Killer Croc wound definitely matched with her story. But what infuriated him was how she reacted when he found them. She had taken _his_ side, that Connor guy, and made Jason out to be the bad guy. _Why would she do that?_ It had hurt. There was no use in denying that.

'You should have known,' he thought to himself. 'It's happened before. The closer you let someone in, the deeper they can cut.' Aloud, he sighed. Why, exactly, was he sitting out here mulling around like some moody teenager? Why hadn't he gone home? What was he waiting for?

He wasn't waiting for anything. Fine. Time to go home. The Red Hood rose to his feet and turned. As he did, he spotted a man standing a few feet away, silently watching him. He regarded the man for a few seconds, and then started to walk past him. "That's a good way to get shot," he mumbled.

"Hey, I need to tell you something," Connor said.

"Well you can tell someone else, because I'm not interested."

"Jason." The older man's voice was suddenly imbued with a certain sternness, like a parent scolding their child. "This isn't the first time you and her have been like this, is it?"

"Did she tell you that?" the Red Hood scoffed. "Let me guess. You heard _all_ about how terrible I am to her, how bad my temper is, how insensitive I am, right? I'm the bad guy."

" _Both_ of you are the problem," Connor insisted. The Red Hood kept walking, but then Connor reached out and blocked him with an arm.

"I know you won't give a shit, but I lost my wife a decade ago. The thought still hasn't stopped crossing my head where I regret all those times I could have told her I loved her, or made her smile a little more, and didn't. One day, if you two keep on like this, you might lose her, whether she walks or something happens. And I _guarantee_ you there won't be a day that goes by without that same regret."

Who the hell was this guy? Barging in, acting like some kind of relationship expert with his goddamn nose raised so high. "Uh, who asked you? I would've if I wanted to hear your sob story advice, but I didn't, did I?" He shoved Connor's arm aside and continued walking.

"If not for your sake, then do it for hers," Connor blurted out. The Red Hood slowed his steps. "You have no idea how much that girl cares for you. What she shows you is just the tip of the iceberg."

"How do you know?"

"After she thought you'd died, she left Gotham and joined Axiom," Connor replied. "That's when I met her, and I've never seen such a broken soul trying to put on a braver face. I saw what she was like when she thought no one was looking."

The Red Hood stopped, his eyes trained on the ground. "Who are you?"

"Just an old friend."

So he says. The Red Hood wasn't sure what to make of this man. "Is she still in there?"

"Yeah." Now Connor started to walk away.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"This is my first time in Gotham. Gonna do a little sightseeing. Go on."

What was with this guy and ordering the Red Hood around? Grumbling something inaudible under his mask, he turned back and headed towards the gas station. As he drew near the store, the bits of glass on the ground crunched under his feet. The door swung open, scraping glass across the floor. Jocelyn heard the noise and looked towards them. When their eyes met, they quickly looked away. The Red Hood walked over and sat down next to her. For an uncomfortable minute, neither said a word. Finally, Jocelyn piped up. "I'm sorry about all of this. Are you still mad?"

"A little," Jason replied. He wrapped an arm around her. Jocelyn leaned against him and rested her head on his shoulder. "You all right?"

"Yeah."

* * *

 _ **Addendum: I wrote this entire chapter in one quick go, so I'm not sure if I got my point across. I'm trying to make both Jason and Jo equally at fault (ie. Jason being an ass and Jo being tight-lipped and defensive). If I didn't achieve that and one party seems more 'evil' than the other, then whoopsy daisy.**_

 _ **Also Connor be all, "Y'all need Oprah or something."**_


	9. Chapter 9 - Uncanny Signs

"So who is this Connor guy anyway?"

Jocelyn knew he was going to ask it eventually. He'd manage to get over most of his sourness, but she'd still have to tread lightly.

They were on their way home. It had been 24 hours since she had been wounded. Jason tried to convince her to rest a little more, but she just wanted to get back as soon as possible. They waited until it was dark so they could slowly make their way through the city unseen. "I don't know much about him before the time I met him," she began. "His name is Connor Johannes. He was a… bodyguard, I think? Or a cop? I don't remember. Then something happened; I didn't ask too many details, but it had something to do with his wife being killed. It was some kind of terrorist attack, though people tend to get the wrong idea when they hear that. In reality, it was just a couple of disgruntled people who wanted to 'fuck the system' and shot up a street. He just abandoned his life after that; took his baby daughter and ran away. He came to Axiom around the time that I did. I guess that's why we bonded; we both lost people close to us."

The massive bite wound was starting to sting with every step again. Jocelyn put a hand over her stomach, her fingers tense from the pain. "Jason, can we stop for a second? It's starting to really hurt."

They paused for a rest. Jason looked down the street. "We're almost there," he noted. "You want me to just carry you?"

"Carry me?"

"Yeah, why not? It'll be simple; like this." Without warning, he swooped down and picked her up. Jocelyn inhaled sharply as pain shot through her body. "Whoops. But see? Nice and relatively painless." He started walking. "Enjoying the ride?"

"It's a little bumpy," Jocelyn joked. "Hm, this is kinda cute. When was the last time you carried me like this?"

"Well that… That would be… Oh, I remember. That time I kidnapped you and brought you to Scarecrow, remember? He gassed you, and then I knocked you out and locked you up. Good times."

"That's fucked up."

"Sorry."

Jocelyn let out a curt laugh. " _Sorry?_ Wow, suddenly that makes everything better!" As they drew near the apartment, Jason carefully lowered her back onto the ground. They hid into a nearby alleyway that was completely unlit. Hidden in the alleyway was a duffel bag.

"All right, babe. Time to strip for me," Jason teased. Jocelyn gave him an unamused look as she stowed her helmet away in the bag. Then, she took off the Specter suit. The tank top she wore underneath was ripped and stained with blood. Jason looked at it with a little concern.

"That's definitely going to draw some curious eyes," he noted.

"Give me your jacket," Jocelyn suggested. Jason looked down at the Red Hood jacket in his hand. Reluctantly, he handed it to her.

"Um…"

"No one's going to tell if I wear it," Jocelyn said, pulling the jacket on and tucking the red hood in. Then, she zipped it up, covering the wound and stains. "You know, I don't think I've ever seen you wear it all zipped up like this."

"That might be the first time the zipper's been used," Jason admitted. He slung the duffel bag over his shoulder and offered his other arm to her. "Ma'am?"

"Such a gentleman!" Jocelyn mused as she took his arm. As they walked, she leaned on him to avoid limping. They made their way out of the alleyway and continued down the street looking like any other ordinary couple.

* * *

As he opened the door, Jason felt a wave of relief wash over him. There was really no place like home, even if that home was shitty at times.

"God, I'm _starving!_ " Jocelyn said as she limped through the door. For a wounded person, she sure moved fast as she hobbled into the kitchen. Or maybe that was the hunger giving her power. Jason knew first-hand how vicious that girl could get with an empty stomach. "Please tell me there's something waiting for me in the fridge!" he heard her plead from the other room. Jason walked over to the den and threw the duffel bag onto one of the chairs. Through the open door, he heard a chorus of clanking as Jocelyn ruffled through the silverware drawer.

With an exhausted huff, Jason collapsed onto the second computer chair. The worn cushions squeaked under his weight. He leaned his head back, raising both arms and draping them over his face. It was like his body had waited until this moment to unleash all of its exhaustion on him. Then, he heard Jocelyn call out from the kitchen.

"Jason?"

Oh no. He didn't want to get up just yet. "Yeah?"

"Did you move the knife?"

"Huh?"

"The kitchen knife. It's not in the drawer. Did you use it recently?"

"No. Try the sink." The apartment wasn't big, but somehow shit managed to go missing all the time only to turn up again a few days later. Whenever it happened, Jocelyn would always joke and say that the 'little people' took it.

"It's not in the sink either," Jocelyn said after a few seconds.

"Must be the little people," Jason suggested. He couldn't help the small, giddy smile as he said it.

He heard Jocelyn let out an irritated groan. "Fucking little people," she grumbled. Then came more shuffling in the kitchen.

Now that Jason had a moment to himself, he couldn't help but go back to what Connor had told him on the bridge. It never occurred to him that Jocelyn had suffered just about as much as he had after they both left Gotham. While he was stationed in Venezuela, he worked himself to the bone so that he'd never have a quiet moment when betrayal and heartbreak could creep up on him. Nevertheless, they had always been there, taunting him in the corner of his mind, laughing loudly in his nightmares when he tried to rest.

Had she been like that too? _I saw what she was like when she thought no one was looking._ When he was alone, away from the eyes of his men, he would often sit quietly through the night, thinking of her. Back then, any memory of her was laced with anguish. But, as fucked up as it was, he had grown to savor the pain. He'd use it to strengthen his hatred towards Batman. And sometimes, just sometimes, those memories would offer a brief respite. A fleeting pocket of happiness that he'd crave like a drug.

"Are you going to bed already?" Jason's eyes flew open as the thought vanished. He lifted his head and looked towards the open door.

"What?" he replied? He saw Jocelyn quickly hurry over and look inside the den, her brow slightly furrowed in confusion.

"Uh… that's weird," she mumbled. "I thought I heard you going to bed."

Jason hadn't heard a thing. "Are you sure?"

"Well I heard the door open and close," Jocelyn said. "But I guess it probably came from the neighbors or something. These walls are pretty thin."

"Unfortunately for them," Jason said. "All though I am pretty beat. You mind if I turn in?"

"If you're tired, then sleep," Jocelyn insisted, her voice fading as she returned to the kitchen. "I might be a while, though. My food rampage isn't finished yet."

Jason pushed himself up from the chair, causing it to skirt away. "Calm down," he muttered. "I don't want to see the kitchen completely pillaged in the morning."

"Aye," Jocelyn answered in a phony Scottish accent. "But pillaging and ransacking be in me blood, y'see!" He heard her giggle at her own silliness.

"Holy Christ," Jason groaned. "I'm leaving. Good night." He went into the bedroom and closed the door behind him. Immediately, something out of place caught his eye. There was a small square on the foot of the bed. Even with the lights off, he could tell what it was. The question was why was it here? Before he had set out to find Jocelyn earlier that night, he was certain that the old photograph of them lying in the grass had been in that drawer in the den. He walked over to it and picked it up. After a brief examination, it appeared there was nothing odd about it aside from the fact that it was here. Well, maybe it wasn't as mysterious as Jason assumed. Jocelyn probably put it there as some sort of cute gesture.

There was still some tiny part of him that couldn't accept that explanation. Something felt wrong. With the photo in hand, Jason turned and headed towards the kitchen. He had opened the door to only a crack when he heard Jocelyn say something.

"Just go to sleep already, you creep!" A brief pause. "I know you're there, Jason. I just saw you dip your head back behind there!"

Jason felt a horrible feeling sink in his stomach even before he understood what was going on. Did Jocelyn just say she saw him? But he was still standing in the bedroom doorway, several yards away from the kitchen. Throwing the door open, Jason sprang forward. "Jo!" he called out. "Stay right where you are!"

It was already too late. He heard a heavy shuffling, followed by her scream and the sound of glass shattering. There was the loud thump as something heavy hit the ground. In his hurry, Jason was barely able to stop himself from running across the broken shards of glass that were strewn across the ground leading to the kitchen.

Jocelyn's screaming had transformed into muffled grunts as something was presumably covering her mouth. Then, Jason heard a chilling voice softly shushing her.

"There is no need to fear," the intruder murmured to her. His calm voice was patchy with strain as there was more shuffling. Jocelyn was apparently struggling against him. "I see you now, so lovely, yet so tragic. Another lost little soul trapped in a zombie shell. Don't worry. There is beauty, there is freedom, in death."

With a tremendous leap, Jason launched himself towards a wall, and then kicked off it at an angle that sent him flying over the glass and into the kitchen. He landed in a crouched position on the balls of his feet. As he rose, so did the intruder. But he brought Jocelyn up with him, the knife pressed against her neck. The arm that held the cold metal was covered in tally marks.

"Steady, steady now," he hissed from behind Jocelyn, one cold eye peering out from behind her head.

Scowling, Jason shouted, "If you do _anything_ to her, I'll tear off each and every one of those tallies, Zsasz!"

"My, my! So testy; nothing like Batman, I see!" Zsasz remarked in a gentle voice as he and Jocelyn slowly backed away. "Do you too appreciate the virtue of the afterlife? Would you like to follow after this harrowed maiden unto liberation?"

Before Jason could answer, Jocelyn said, "Neither of us are dying tonight, you fucking looney!" She jerked her head back, slamming it into Zsasz's face. As he stumbled back, she pushed his knife arm away and hooked a foot around his ankle, causing him to fall back. Zsasz was taken by surprise as he hit the ground, but his nasty agility had him on his feet in no time. It was Jocelyn's turn to be surprised.

The marked killer charged forward with unrestrained wildness and tackled her down. As Jocelyn hit the ground, she let out a cry of pain, both of her hands flying to the wound on her stomach. Now, Zsasz wasted no time as he slashed toward her throat with the knife. But before the sharp edge could make contact, Jason seized the maniac and threw him off of Jocelyn. As Zsasz tumbled across the floor, the knife flew from his hands and clattered on the kitchen floor. In a flash, Jason had the killer pinned on the ground with a knee, the discarded knife in his hand.

"I'll fucking gut you!" Jason growled, gripping the knife tightly.

"How generous!" Zsasz laughed, choking under Jason's weight. "Will you continue my work, perhaps?"

"Continue? Fuck no! Your sick shit ends here!"

A pair of hands grabbed and pulled Jason's arm back. "I don't think you should do that," Jocelyn hissed in Jason's ear.

"I don't want to hear your mercy spiel this time!" Jason snapped back. "This fuck almost killed you!"

"It's not that," Jocelyn retorted. "It's just that we're going to have a hell of a time with a dead guy on our kitchen floor." Almost on cue, there was a barrage of angry knocks at the door. "Shit!" She let go of Jason's wrist. "I'll take care of that. Don't do anything stupid."

Jason stared angrily down at Zsasz as Jocelyn hurried to answer the door. The maniac had a nonchalant smile plastered over his face. That grin… that stupid… fucking… awful… horrible grin. It just reminded him too much of that red, stretched smile. Jason wanted nothing more than to bash his face in and get rid of that god-awful smile.

"What's with all this fucking noise?" he heard the man at the door demand to Jocelyn. "What are you even doing? Do you know what time it is? You've woken my kid up with all this thumping and crashing!"

Zsasz opened his mouth. Before he even make a noise, Jason's hand was squeezing his throat.

"I am so sorry," Jocelyn apologized. "It's just that my brother's visiting for the week and he's had a little too much to drink. We've put him to bed now, so there shouldn't be any more noise. Again, I'm really sorry for bothering you."

The neighbor from downstairs grumbled something in response. A few seconds later, the front door closed. Jocelyn reappeared in the kitchen.

"We can't just let him go," Jason told her.

"I know. If he's here, he obviously knows who we are," Jocelyn replied. She stared icily down at Zsasz. "Tie him down. We're going to give you plenty of time to think of some good answers, Victor. And then you're going to explain yourself to us."

"There's no need," Jason said. "I know how he got here." Someone had told Zsasz to come here tonight. Someone who was currently out 'sightseeing' Gotham.

* * *

 _ **Addendum: Again, another scenario that freaks me out: having someone in your house without you realizing. Good thing I live in a cardboard box.**_

 _ **Also, how could I have been so naïve all these years! It turns out that my upstairs neighbors weren't actually practicing river dancing in metal boots every evening! They were actually being assaulted by Victor Zsasz! Oh, pardon me, neighbors!**_


	10. Chapter 10 - Over

He turned his head as she appeared, also dressed in her suit. "It's not that I believe you," Jocelyn said quickly as though she had read the thought that had crossed his mind. "I just… want to hear what he has to say."

Yeah right. Even if she didn't claim to believe Jason, there was still some part of her that doubted. Otherwise, she wouldn't have chosen to come along. 'You'll see,' Jason thought. 'I'll get that bastard Connor to confess. He's the one that led Zsasz to us.'

"Besides," Jocelyn continued, her loud voice conveying her anxiety. "You won't be able to find him without me. My helmet still has his tracking data from back in the day."

"I think I'd be able to find him with or without it, but sure," Jason replied. He hadn't told her, but he'd secretly copied and extracted the tracking data into his own helmet's UI. As he pulled the red hood over his head, he called to the prisoner bound in the other room, "Don't you stay up too late while we're gone."

Jocelyn didn't find it so amusing. "What are we going to do with him?" she asked under her breath as they headed away from the apartment.

"Are you asking me? Because you already know what I'd say."

Jocelyn let out a curt sigh. "No, it's wrong."

"Why? You've never minded taking the life of a delinquent scum. He certainly didn't mind the thought of taking yours. What makes it different this time?"

"It's because he's harmless now. It'd be like an execution. We can't just do that."

"Why not?"

Jocelyn looked at him. "That's what bad people do."

It irked Jason how her words reminded him of a certain mentor he used to have. "Jo, there are no good guys or bad guys. The world's not black and white, remember? Sometimes people have to do evil things."

Jocelyn didn't respond as she touched the side of her helmet with a hand. Turning away, she gestured and said, "This way."

* * *

According to the tracking data, Connor was in the Ryker Heights district. As soon as Jocelyn told that to Jason, he muttered, "He better not be in _there_."

He was. After a short while, the two of them were standing in front of the district's long-abandoned mall. It was here where, three years ago, Batman had chased Scarecrow and finished off the Arkham Knight. It looked the same as it had then, though its exterior was a little more weather-beaten now.

"Where's he at?" Jason's question snapped Jocelyn out of her thoughts. She blinked and looked at her helmet's HUD. The little white dot was inside of the mall. "A large room towards the east end of the building. Looks like the main center of the mall or something like that."

Jason grunted in response and headed towards the mall. "Let's go."

The interior of the empty mall was nothing short of eerie. The vacant rooms were littered with broken mannequins, their faded faces staring as the two passed. Jocelyn spotted little pieces of red equipment and weapons—signs left behind by the militia presence that had taken over Gotham City. It seemed like this place was never cleaned up after what happened. Whether it was out of respect or fear, Jocelyn wasn't sure.

The main center wasn't much different, but there was the relieving absence of mannequins. The tiles and escalators were covered in crushed rubble and bits of miscellaneous debris. A sniper rifle shell clinked along the floor as Jocelyn's foot sent it skirting away.

The main center was divided into two floors. Jason and Jocelyn were on the upper floor, and it appeared that Connor was below them. As they approached an escalator, Jocelyn peered over the railing. "He's right below us," she told Jason.

Jason descended a few steps down the escalator and looked over the edge. "You sure about that? I don't see anyone."

Jocelyn double-checked the tracker. Yes, that's where the dot was. She quickly recalibrated the tracker, but the dot reappeared exactly where it had just been. "Maybe there's something obstructing the view," she suggested, stepping down to where he was. As she looked, she realized that couldn't be true. Below them, there was nothing but a stretch of flat, empty space.

But wait… There was something small on the ground there. Jocelyn used the helmet to zoom in on it. It was a small, black device, no bigger than a fingernail. Connor's tracker.

Suddenly, she heard Jason speak. "You should have stayed hidden." She turned to see Jason pulling out one of his firearms and aiming it. Sitting on the opposite escalator was Connor, who was holding something large and round tucked under his arm.

"I can see why Verlix wasn't exactly fond of you," Connor said. "You're the kind of guy who shoots first and asks questions later, aren't you, kid?"

"You see me shooting? And trust me, I have _no_ qualms about putting one in you, not after what you tried to do to us."

Connor sighed. "I told you, Jason. I had no idea Croc was going to be there. If I had, I never would have called Jocelyn there."

"You know fully well that's not what I'm talking about."

Connor's eyes drifted away as he looked like he was pondering on Jason's words, and then shook his head. "You lost me, buddy."

Jocelyn saw Jason's fist tightened. Quickly, she placed a hand over his arm. "Connor, Victor Zsasz attacked us earlier, in our own home. We thought… we were just wondering if you, um, were involved."

There was no response from Connor at first as the man slowly got up and leaned on the escalator railing, regarding both of them with impassive eyes. "Listen, kid—."

"Call me that one more time."

"All right, _Jason_. Listen. I know you don't like me. I understand that. I understand how suspicious I may seem to you. Looking back at what I've done ever since coming here, I don't blame you. I arrived here, you got attacked, and you thought you linked two and two. But I promise you… and Jocelyn," he added, looking at her. "I promise both of you, I had nothing to do with Zsasz."

"Can you prove that?" Jason persisted.

"I can't," Connor admitted. "But there's no proof that I did, either. Just conjecture. Just your judgment. And speaking of which, I wouldn't put a lot of faith in your ability to decree good moral character." He raised the thing he had been holding. It was a cracked, blue helmet. Both Jason and Jocelyn were silent as they stared at it.

"A lot of people think the Arkham Knight's locked up in Blackgate with the rest of them," Connor said. "Some even think he died. As for me, I think he should have. He was the exact opposite of what Axiom stood for, the prime example of the kind of enemy Jocelyn and I faced. Too many died, lost their loved ones, or lost everything they had. A lot of everyday heroes, the kind of people the world needs more of, were cut down here in this very city. Any jury or judge would agree in a heartbeat that the one responsible deserves death. But where is he now? Graciously living with a second chance. Walking freely through the streets, girl on his arm. Then masquerading at night as a dark vigilante, a 'proponent' of justice. Well?"

They had come here to confront Connor, but somehow he had turned the whole thing around and was now laying the accusations onto Jason. Jocelyn was stunned, but Jason seemed unfazed.

"Get whatever bullshit conclusion you've come up with out of your head," he snapped. "The Arkham Knight _is_ dead."

"Fine. If that's what you insist, then I won't pursue the matter any further. I'm not here to exact vengeance. And even with her biased judgment, Jocelyn cares about you, and that's all that matters to me."

Jocelyn piped up, "Connor, that's in the past now. We came here to ask you about Zsasz, so don't change the subject. You said you had nothing to do with him, and I believe you. But I can't shake the feeling that you know something."

"Hmm," Connor murmured. "Nothing gets past you, does it, Spec? Well, you're right. I think I may know who told Zsasz where to find you. This certain 'individual' is also why I'm here. You two ever heard of the Overseer?"

The Overseer? Another new villain to Gotham, perhaps? Whoever they were, they seemed to have a grandiose view of themselves to don that kind of title. "I haven't," Jocelyn answered.

"This guy's a really formidable one. Actually, I can't really call him, or her, or it, a guy. I've spent months tracking the Overseer, but I haven't been able to pin 'em down, so I don't even know what they are. But given the scale of what they're doing, I have my doubts that it's just one person behind this 'Overseer' personage. But whatever the Overseer may be, he acts like one person. He acted like that when he reached out to most of the crazies in this city a few nights ago." Connor's face was grave. "And I think he's shown pretty clearly what his goal is."

"And that would be…?" Jason demanded.

"What do you think? Earlier tonight, he led Zsasz to where you and Jocelyn would be unguarded, unsuspecting—like hiring a hit from an assassin. He's trying to kill you and probably anyone else who calls themselves a vigilante here in this city. With Batman gone, he wants to pick the rest of you off."

"This fucker's got a pretty inflated head on his shoulders if he thinks he can just get rid of us that easily," Jason mumbled. "And you said you spent _months_ trying to find him? Is he that elusive or are you just incompetent?" Reflexively, Jocelyn glared at him. However, it wasn't conveyed well through her helmet.

"I wish it were just me being dumb," Connor replied. "That'd make it a lot easier for everyone. But he knows what he's doing, whoever he is. I can't face him on my own." The man hesitated. Then he continued, speaking slowly. "That's really why I'm here: to find you." He was talking to Jocelyn.

"Me?"

"We need to fight fire with fire. If the Overseer is rounding up a force to do his bidding, then so do we. Axiom needs to come back. And we need you most of all."

Following those words was a heavy silence. The lull was broken by a scoff. Jason crossed his arms and turned away. "You're kidding, right?" he said. "You really think you can pull this Axiom thing back? Make a ragtag little team to fight this Overseer person? I thought you guys swore an oath to never talk to each other or something. And besides, you can just go home. If the Overseer's in Gotham, then Jo and I—."

"Of course," Jocelyn spoke up. Jason looked at her. With her eyes still on Connor, she gave a small nod. "Axiom needs to come back."

"Jo, you can't be serious."

"This is important," Jocelyn insisted, switching her gaze over to Jason. "Just please, _please_ understand."

Jason didn't say anything for a while as he looked at her. Jocelyn couldn't tell what kind of expression he had under his helmet, and she didn't want to know.

"36 seconds," he finally said. "It took 36 seconds from when he made that proposal for you to give your answer. You chose that stupid organization and him over me in less than a minute."

"I didn't say that."

"No? Then what was it you just said?"

No answer.

"Just what the hell is going on? Just tell me."

"I…" Jocelyn's voice faded as she struggled through the turmoil within her. What Connor had told her was urgent, but at the same time… "Connor, I don't know if I can. Jason and I—."

"Axiom won't survive without you."

"Fuck Axiom," Jason snapped. "Survive? It's already dead, and there's no point in reviving it. Like I said, we can take care of this Overseer."

Connor glowered at Jason with a ferocity that hadn't been in his eyes before. "You watch your mouth."

"I'm sick of you," Jason retaliated, not the least bit intimidated. "And I'm sick of her, too. You know, I should be thanking you. You let me see how willing she is to drop everything and run and the slightest opportunity." He looked back at Jocelyn. She could practically see the bitterness oozing out from underneath his mask. "Still mulling over your choices? No need. I'll make things easier for you." He walked passed her and, as he did, said, "I'm heading back and packing my things up. You can play around with Axiom to your heart's content."

"Packing? Jason, wait—." She started to follow him.

"Stay right where you are," Jason demanded, a tone of hostility in his voice. "In case you didn't get it, let me spell it out for you: we're done. Later, Specter." Then, he was gone.

It didn't hit Jocelyn right away. That's how humans were. They even had a name for it—delayed reaction. But when it hit her, it was like stepping out in front of a train. Jocelyn pulled in a shaky gasp as she lowered herself onto the escalator steps and pulled her helmet off. She pressed a hand against her face and cried. Connor crossed over to where she was and sat next to her.

"Jason," she sobbed, covering her face with both hands. "I-I wish I could have just told him. Why does it have to be like this?"

Connor gently placed a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry," he told her softly. "Do you want me to go talk to him?"

Jocelyn shook her head. "We can't. We can't say anything. You know that."

* * *

 _ **Addendum: Sorry, sorry. I got drawn into the Witcher and started publishing stuff in that section. Then classes started and I'm dead now.**_

 _ **But don't worry. This story is coming back.**_


	11. Chapter 11 - Just a Bug Away

"We can't. We can't say anything. You know that." What in the hell was that supposed to mean?

The sun was just starting to come up. He could see the faintest orange rays stretching out from behind the buildings. He was on one himself, legs dangling over the edge. Underneath the treads of his boots, the grid-like streets stretched out far below.

"I know," he heard Connor replied. Upon hearing his voice, Jason stopped twirling his handgun. "We have a lot to do."

"Can you just give me a minute?" Jocelyn asked, her tone practically a plea.

"Yeah. Of course."

Before he left them at the mall, Jason had planted a small bug on Connor. He didn't really know why he'd done it. It wasn't like he'd hear anything he wanted to hear. It had just been done instinctively.

On the other end, no one said anything for a while. All Jason could hear was the short, stifled gasps of her quiet sobbing. He could imagine her sitting on the run down steps of the escalator. She didn't cry often, and when she did, she'd cover her mouth like she was afraid of making too much noise. He would put his arm around her and tell her it was okay. It was okay to let it out. Then she'd put her hand down, lean her head against him, and cry freely. One time, she had even fallen asleep like that, her head on his shoulder. She hadn't stirred when he brushed the wet streams from her face. He remembered the sight of her closed eyes, her lashes fanned out, and her relaxed lips parted—.

Jason let out an irate huff as he quickly pulled himself up onto his feet. With his grapple, he quickly descended down the building. He was just about to shut off the bug when he heard Connor speak up.

"It was just a fit of emotion," he reassured. "He's reckless, remember? What's to say he won't change his mind?"

"He was right," Jocelyn replied. "We stopped seeing eye-to-eye a while ago, but he still cared. He always cared. And then I do this." She let out a shaky breath. "Maybe it's better this way."

Damn right it was better this way. This was what she deserved after throwing him away like that. Jason had to insist that to himself over and over again as he walked through the dark streets. At the same time, Jocelyn's sadness seemed to bleed through the earpiece and infect him.

He'd heard enough for now. He disconnected the bug, and her voice disappeared. With her completely gone, he couldn't help but feel hollow. "It's better this way," he muttered to himself.

Suddenly, he heard something. Jason broke out of his deep spell just in time to jerk backwards as a gunshot blared out and a hole burst in the stretch of wall in front of him. In a flash he had his own handgun out and fired towards where he figured the shooter was. He saw a figure in the dark drop. Faintly, he heard a whirring and knew he had precious little time to get out of the way.

The Red Hood sprang forward and ran for his life. The whirring grew into a series of booms as a trail of bullet holes exploded behind him. As the line of fire was about to catch up to him, the Red Hood dove behind a large, graffiti-covered electric box. Crouching against the metal barrier, the Red Hood heard the hisses and crackles as the shredded wiring inside the box exploded.

"Quit hiding, freak!" he heard the machine-gunner shout over the roar of his weapon. Judging by the obnoxiousness in his voice, this guy was a run-of-the-mill goon. Except this one had a machine gun. Someone a little higher up the food chain had provided one, which only meant—.

"We've got him pinned! The rest of you lot get over there and finish him off!" he heard a voice order. A voice that belonged to one Oswald Cobblepot. The Red Hood turned his head. His helmet picked up the six men rushing towards him even before they came into view. Two were armed, and the rest were unarmed. They didn't concern him. The real challenge came from the machine gunner. He needed to stay behind the electric box, or find a way to stay out of the gunner's line of fire.

As the men came closer, the Red Hood lifted his gun and aimed towards an abandoned car that sat nearby. He squeezed the trigger. The small, stripped car jolted as the bullet ricocheted off of its rusty surface. One of the armed men collapse. The other hesitated, clearly rattled.

The Red Hood turned just as one of the other men came around the electric box. The thug swung a spiked plank. The Red Hood dodged, grabbed the thug, and then pushed him out from behind the electric box. He was accidentally killed by the jumpy gunman.

"What's brought this on?" the Red Hood shouted. Two more men appeared. A hollow thud rang through the electric box as one of their heads was slammed against it. The other man stumbled forward as the Red Hood's bullet tore through his leg. As he bucked forward, the Red Hood brought up a knee and smashed his jaw. "You still harboring a grudge about those explosives?"

"Explosives? We're all past that, old boy," Penguin replied. The Red Hood spotted him, hiding cozily behind the machine gunner. "The lads and I've a higher purpose now. We're getting rid of you and all the other vigilante bastards parading in our streets. The Overseer's making sure of that."

 _The Overseer_. Connor had mentioned him. So he really was in Gotham. "Overseer, huh? I was beginning to wonder whose dick you guys were sucking these days."

"That's right, better get all those cheeky remarks out before we put you in the ground," Penguin said. To his gunner, he demanded, "What are you waiting for? Tear through that box!" The machine gun started up again and began firing at the electric box. It wouldn't protect him for long. The Red Hood looked around. There were no good angles to get a bullet off and take out the gunner.

Taking one last second to study his surroundings, the Red Hood sprang into action. As he emerged from behind the box, he pulled something from his belt and pressed the switch on it. Immediately, he was enveloped in a thick cloud of smoke. The machine gunner tore through the cloud, but each bullet passed harmlessly through.

"Enough, you git!" Penguin snapped. The whirring died down as the machine gunner stopped firing. "Quit firing at the smoke! He's long gone! Keep your eyes peeled for that slippery bastard." He turned to his remaining men. "The same goes for all of you. A nice, fat bonus is waiting for whoever serves me the Red Hood's head on a silver platter, you hear?"

"You got it boss!" was the eager response.

' _Fuck my life_ ,' the Red Hood thought bitterly as he crouched lower behind the stripped car. ' _I'm being hunted down for an extra fistful of cash.'_ It had been a long time since he'd been pinned down like this. Normally, these kind of thugs wouldn't have lasted this long. The Red Hood would take out the ones that rushed up to confront him. The ones that lingered in the back to give supporting fire would be taken out by the Specter when she appeared right next to them.

But she wasn't here. Not anymore. She turned away from him. As he reminded himself, the Red Hood's hands tightened. His breathing became strained. But that was fine! That was _perfectly_ fine!

So deep was the Red Hood in his thoughts and his brewing anger, he failed to notice the thug that had rounded the stripped car and spotted him. When he did see the thug, it was already too late. The Red Hood had barely registered the sight of the thug raising his gun when suddenly a blur of crimson flashed before his eyes. In the next instant, the gunman was unconscious on the ground.

The man who had appeared regarded the Red Hood with a brief glance before zipping away. But he was still nearby, the Red Hood knew. He was very familiar with that 'strike and vanish' tactic. It was something the both of them learned from Batman.

There was another cry. Someone else had just been taken out. "Boss, there's another one!" he heard one of the henchmen shout.

"So? Take him out too!" Penguin snapped back impatiently.

The Red Hood peeked from behind the car. He spotted Penguin disappearing behind the door of a van, which quickly peeled away. His quick retreat didn't help the morale of the men he'd left behind. In their panicked states, they were easy to pick off. The real challenge was the machine gunner—he wasn't letting up easy.

Nearly every piece of cover in the area had been blown to bits by that damn machine gun, and the Red Hood still hadn't gotten any closer to taking him out. "You're done for!" the machine gunner taunted. "Once I bring your lead-riddled corpse to the boss, I'm gonna get some nice padding in my wallet!"

The Red Hood scowled. There had to be some way to get closer. He looked up, scanning for anywhere to grapple to. But there were no good places to go. He took the smoke device and glanced at it. Using it would only get him so far.

Suddenly, he heard a voice retort, "You should've gotten some padding for a helmet instead." There was a loud thud, followed by the sound of something heavy hitting the ground. The Red Hood risked a peek and saw that the machine gun was unoccupied. Its operator was lying unconscious on the ground with Red Robin standing over him. "Thanks for keeping him distracted," he said.

The Red Hood straightened up. "That was the stupidest line I've ever heard," he grumbled.

Red Robin flashed him an amused look. "You're welcome."

"I didn't need your help."

"Well you got it." He looked around. "Where's Jo? Thought she'd be here with you."

"Don't you have somewhere else to be?" the Red Hood replied briskly as he began walking away. "Cobblepot's run off. Why don't you go do your little hero thing?" He reached up to his helmet and turned Connor's audio bug back on. He'd told himself that he wasn't going to do it. It was time to get on with his life. But he couldn't help it.

"—Way to do it," Connor was saying.

"And you said nearly every criminal in Gotham is connected to him?"

"Right. For someone who barely exists, he's got a pretty tight hold on the underworld of this city right now."

So they were already starting to plan. Well, it was certainly warming to know how quickly Jocelyn had dismissed his absence. But as he listened to her, there seemed to be something missing in her voice.

"What are you suggesting?" Jocelyn asked.

"We need to lure him out. Find out more about him through his connections."

"The criminals."

"Right. Are you ready to get 'captured' by them?"

Jocelyn sighed. "I hate doing this. I'm going to have to take my arm off, won't I?"

"The suit too. You gotta really sell the helpless state thing. And who knows, maybe it'll be convincing enough for Jason to come charging in to save you?"

There was a pause when Jocelyn didn't reply. Then, she said, "I don't think he will."

"Spec—."

"Let's just get started."

* * *

 _ **Addendum: Wait, when was the last time this was updated? Over a month? ... Whoops.**_


End file.
